


Flower Petals

by PowderCat



Category: Damian Wayne - Fandom, Super Sons (Comics), jonathan kent - Fandom
Genre: Alien Technology, Anal, Batfamily, Bisexual Harley Quinn, Consensual Underage Sex, Damian Wayne Feels, Damian Wayne is Robin, Dating, Dead Lex Luthor, Extraterrestrials, Flowers, Foreplay, Friendship, Gay, Growing Up, Harleen Quinzel - Freeform, Homosexual, Jon Kent - Freeform, Jonathan Crane - Freeform, Kissing, M/M, Making Out, Meditation, Minor Garfield Logan/Raven, Missions, Mystery, Nightwing - Freeform, Oral, Parapsychology, Passion, Patrol, Penetration, Plot, Plot Development, Poison Ivy - Freeform, Porn With Plot, Psychology, Reconciliation, Rehabilitation, Religion, Robin - Freeform, Romance, Scarecrow - Freeform, Sex, Siddhis, Superboy - Freeform, Superheroes, Teen Romance, Teen Titans - Freeform, Undercover Missions, Victor Stone - Freeform, World Travel, cum, cyborg, dami wayne - Freeform, feelings reveal, foreskin, virgins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-07-09 20:55:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 10
Words: 83,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19894210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PowderCat/pseuds/PowderCat
Summary: In this work, Damian Wayne is around 17 years old while Jonathan Kent is around 14 years old.As these teen heroes explore their passionate love for one another, they are drawn more and more into exploring their own ethics and consciousness in this x-rated tale of romance and parapsychological growth.May Love and Awareness win out~





	1. Flower Petals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Damian and Jonathan express their love for one other. Enjoy~

The air was a steely gray like the city. Steam rose up from the streets only lightly. The wind was mostly still, whispering its secrets among the inhabitants of the bustling hedge-work of buildings and roadways. 

Among some of the buildings, whether in flight or on foot, superheroes moved on among the crowds, unobserved by most.

Damian Wayne was surveying this world while on patrol on that chilly autumn night in Gotham City. The others on his immediate team would call what he was doing 'brooding.' Rather unobservant coming from a group associated with the Batman (father) and the rest of the super heroes around the world. Not that he brooded anyway. The entire premise of the idea was preposterous. He was anticipating. Feeling the city out. Not that he was thinking all of this consciously or that he would admit to intuiting. He was an assassin. Son of Batman. Or at least, that was what he had to tell himself increasingly more often to stay focused. Not that he was never not focused.

He was like a razor's edge anticipating the first swipe. But then he caught a glimpse of red and blue in the distance and reacted. No matter how subtle the reaction, he hated himself for feeling so fleetingly joyous at the thought of what it was. Or at least, that is what the various voices of his previous callousness were whispering to him. If he was honest with himself, which of course he was, he knew what he was feeling, just like he knew what the blur of color in the distance had been. The truth was that he was getting sloppy. He was being saturated with passions like the peons that he was busy protecting every night. Internally, he smirked. 

That was, of course, what the little voice of the League of Shadows was whispering to him, but he did not let that distract him enough to not hear the rustling of the cape behind him.

He knew that Superboy (Jon) heard his heart rate accelerate, if only it had accelerated for a moment. That was, if Jon was paying attention, which he probably was. They were just keyed in to one another that way. Damian could practically smell him, picturing his black hair whipping in the wind of his landing.

"You're late." Robin said flatly, no hint of emotion or scorn in his voice, mostly to distract himself from the feeling of wanting to be close. Jon certainly had been aware of the gradual, if subtle, change in Damian's behaviour towards him, but he was sweet (urk) enough to not pester him about it.

Jon landed with almost a tinkle next to Damian, his arms crossed behind his back to keep his cape somewhat controlled. He bounced on his heels and smiled his big, innocent grin. 

"Awww, Robiiiiin. I got held up stopping a petty thief." He leaned in towards Robin, practically exuding sunshine from his every pore. Damian could swear that it got warmer when he landed next to him. Not that he would admit it. Yet.

"They’re all petty… Last time it was a cat in a tree. Do you really expect me to keep buying these excuses?" Despite himself, the smallest of smiles had crept into his voice and into his face. Most people would not have been able to notice it, but Jon sure did.

That sort of thing would have really irritated Damian before. He would have felt weak.

Superboy snickered innocently, snorting through his nose. Even though his senses were attuned currently to the city and its doings, he was focused on robin. He delighted in these nightly patrols.

"Yeah, well, I guess we both have a thing for strays and rescuing them." His voice was exuberant, just like the twinkling in his eyes. Damian noticed all of this out of the edge of his perception. Jon wasn't the only one learning to be better with the powers at his disposal. Jon admired Damian’s ability to be aware of his surroundings so deeply. He always had, even though he was the one with super hearing.

Damian smirked internally. He knew that Jon’s comment had been partially directed at him. He also knew that it was just pay back for the earlier years of teasing that he had put Jon through. He regretted nothing.

The two had developed such a close bond over the years. They both had traits that the other one admired. In the midst of all of this, Robin had taught superboy to be more confident. Jon had taught Damian how to feel. He had more than a little bit of that going on right now.

"Soooo, what're we up to tonight, partner?" Jon said, radiating positivity. Damian explained the stake out, and before long, Jon had taken to the air to keep watch. He was sad that he and Robin wouldn't be on the same rooftop all night, but he had a duty to protect the innocent. He did not shirk that duty.

After several hours of contemplation and observation, Superboy landed on the roof quietly next to the ever-vigilant son of Batman. It never failed to strike Jon how similar the two were, but how different they were also.

"Alright. That was the last of that group. They're all gone." Superboy said, using what Damian called his hero voice. Then, dropping the tone, he jokingly put forth the idea that they call it a success and go play video games together for the rest of the night.

Robin did not move for a long moment, but Jon was used to some of his sunnier aspects being lost on him. Then he surprised them both by replying.

"You're right. We've done our part for the night." Jon's draw dropped for a full second before he squealed in delight and reached out to hug his teammate. Robin put out his arm to stop him, of course, but instead of chiding him for his glee, he actually pulled out a communicator from his belt and contacted Starfire to tell her that they were heading in for the night. He even told her that she was doing a good job. She laughed excitedly at this out of surprise and told him that he was great. Jon was actually a little concerned, but he tried not to let that spoil how excited he was. Damian noticed anyway.

"Should I meet you back at base?" Damian Wayne. Ever calm and calculating.

Jon opened his mouth and pulled his eyebrows together. "Oh, come on!" He said, easing his hero persona in excitement. In a display of super strength and speed, he snatched Robin up and was flying away up into the night sky before he could object.

As per their agreed upon precautions, he flew them at varying speeds in varying directions before heading to Wayne manor. It always made for a longer flight, but Jon didn't mind. He got to see more of the beautiful planet that way. Tonight in particular, he let his imagination guide him as he zipped through the sky with Robin in his arms, bride-style.

They couldn't really talk at these speeds and altitudes, but they were both very aware of the motions and tensions of the other. On some level, the sounds of their capes rustling in the winds was soothing to their ears. It was like music to them both.

Superboy could smell Damian even under the conditions of flight. He wanted to relish the moment. Eventually, however, they made it to the bat cave.

Seeing as how it was only one in the morning, the only human person in the house was Alfred, and he had the uncanny ability of being busy somewhere else when nobody needed him.

"Woohoo!" The blue-eyed hero called into the bat cave, running around with his arms held out on either side of him like an airplane. No matter what kind of a hero he may be (and he was an excellent one), he was still a kid. The beauty of it was not lost on Damian, but he slyly pretended not to notice as he outstretched his own arms to greet the various rescues that the bat cave housed these days. 

While Jon may have found it easy to relax, no doubt in some form because of his upbringing and because of his super powers, Damian was never relaxed. He did, however, ease up around his animals. Sometimes Jon felt like one of his animals. They were all the only creatures in the world that had really experienced the tender side of Bruce Wayne’s heir.

As much as he loved watching Damian de-stress around the gang (which he deeply did), he wanted to give him some space. Plus, he really wanted to get clean. He liked being clean for Damian. 

“I call first shower!” He exclaimed, dashing up the stairs out of the Batcave like a red and blue streak. 

“Use the guest bedroom, Jon! Do not go into my room.” Damian called back after him, taking his mask off, delighting in his own way in both the chipperness of the son of Superman and in the various bleats and coos of the animals that he loved to surround himself with. He had no qualms about Jon hearing him, and after not long, he swore that he could hear running water and Jon singing somewhere in the mansion.

Even though Superboy was the one with amazingly heightened senses, Robin had come to inuit certain things about him. Maybe it was because they were so close with each other. Things had become enmeshed between them and had been for a long time. He reflected on this as he slowly said his hellos to the non-human family and stripped his costume, allowing himself a deep moment of stillness and reflection.

Puberty had surprisingly been a welcome experience for him. Although he was still in the midst of it, it had allowed him to work through some of the deeper emotions that he had not even known that he had until he met Jon. Of course, his father (Batman) and the various heroes that surrounded him had awakened all sorts of new experiences and feelings for him, but he had always seemed to be able to work through them, ever inspired by the trainings that he had received as a boy. And let’s face it: hero work of his caliber did not exactly foster the best daydreams or time for such a thing. Though he had seen his fair share of amazing things (and horrible things), he had always felt grounded in his destiny, grounded in who he was. He had assumed at first that being paired up with Superboy would be just another cut of the same. His father certainly was no Superman (nor Clark a Bruce), but he, the heir of Wayne estate, did have a deep though seldom talked about love for his father. If nothing else, it was a reverence and respect that he had had for a rare few. But Jon. Jon was different. 

Somewhere upstairs, in a room quite different from the one that Robin was undressing in, stood Jonathan Kent, son of Superman, protector of morality, decency, and all things innocent. He was currently rubbing very expensive shampoo into his hair while singing a Beach Boy song that he had got stuck in his head while on the bus home from school. He had been so excited to see Damian. They had grown up so much in the few years that they had known each other, and although neither of them truly voiced the significance of their connection aloud, Jon suspected that he was in love with Damian. For Robin, it had been a grudging and then gradual acceptance of romantic feelings for the other. For Superboy, he had suspected what might have been there all along, though he had been previously too young to think the reach of it through. 

He immersed himself in the daydreams that he had relished on the bus home from school earlier that day while he washed his ever-windswept hair.

“Wooooouldn’t it be nice if we were older aaaand we didn’t have to wait so looooong!” He gaily sang, enjoying the reverberations of his voice against the golden-trimmed walls of the shower. He kept his ears tuned in to Damian’s movements in the Batcave, also stretching his hearing out beyond the mansion to ensure the safety of the local area. He was growing into a fine young man. His stature had improved considerably, as had his attitude. His dad was a little reluctant to let him spend so much time with the son of Batman at first, but in Jon’s opinion, at least, Damian had been a great influence on him. If Damian would have ever voiced such a thing, he would have also said that Jon had been a blessing and a great influence on him also. 

At any rate, their respective fathers had no complaints. On the outside, everything looked super. Damian himself had grown taller, and since he had continued his rigorous trainings and disciplines with the Bat-family and even with members of the Justice League, he had maintained a stunning figure. Jon liked to hover over him sometimes, far, far up above him, and admire the play of the moonlight off of his features. His rich black hair moved so delicately in the chill autumn wind. He remembered the way that Damian smelled when he had met him on the roof that night, and he began to grow an erection.

“I wish that every kiss was neeeeever eeeeendiiiing…” he half-sang to himself, half-spoke. Wherein Damian had struggled for the better part of their friendship to accept his attractions to Jon, often spending many sleepless nights weighing this and thinking about that, he himself had accepted the feelings quite quickly. He wanted to touch himself at the thought of this acceptance, but felt that it would be disrespectful towards his partner, so he just let the soap and water flow off of his uncut member, relishing the closeness that he had shared with his beloved companion over the years. He washed the conditioner out of his hair with a big smile on his face, listening to Damian pull on fresh clothes, talking with the animals. Jon was blushing under the hot shower water. He could hear Alfred, whom he had always really liked, working away in the house somewhere.

Before he knew it, his mind had turned to one of the times that Damian had let him lay on him: when Jon’s dog Skip had passed away. He had grieved for Skip, and Damian had not even offered the usual sarcasm or chastisement towards his showing his emotions. He had simply let Jon hold his chest and cry on him while he rubbed his back.

They knew so much about each other, and they had accomplished so much together, but that moment stood out in his mind as something truly precious. He could still remember how sweet it had been to lay against his friend. He remembered the feel of his skin. The sound of his heart. His smell. His erection throbbed.

Okay. That was enough of that. Enough shower thinking. Time to finish washing and to play some video games. 

Damian, in the Batcave, had finished pulling on some exercise clothing that he kept there to change into after hard missions or after trainings. Alfred had cleaned them, of course, so at least he would be mostly presentable to his dear friend despite not also taking a shower. He fixed his hair a bit, not usually concerned with such shallow things. He couldn’t help but want to do his best (for Jon). He silently thanked Alfred, whom he knew he could trust to not turn up this evening anywhere near the pair of boys.

He could depend on Alfred. He trusted him with the favor that he had asked of him, and the time was fast approaching that he would see what Jon would make of it. He could feel somewhere in his heart that Superboy was all clean now. The thought of Jon in just a towel stirred something in his guts that facing various villains had never been able to touch. If he wasn’t such a calm and collected person, he may have said that someone in his condition was nervous.

It wasn’t long before Jon joined him in his quarters. He had retreated there, depending on his partner’s senses to guide him despite his saying to keep out of there. Damian expected though, that if Jon felt the same way about him, that he also had another sense about where he was and what he was doing. Jon sure seemed to border as closely to flirting with him as he could without outright saying anything about it. He had been particularly jovial around him the last few weeks, so Damian had worked up the plan to reveal his feelings. But he wanted it to be perfect. It had to be. After everything that they had been through together, Jon deserved that.

Even with all of this, Damian was not 100% sure that Superboy felt the same way, though he admitted to himself that he was only as good as he was at analyzing and feelings emotions because of their bond. He hoped that he felt the same way, and again, he had his strong suspicions that the teasing that Jon gave him was not just in payback for his own.

Jon walked in at normal speed wearing Superman pajama-bottoms and nothing else. Damian used to chastise him for not wearing a shirt (and for everything else), but he had to admit that he enjoyed the view. He did not give away how closely he was surveying the water still sparkling in Jon’s hair, or the sparkle in his eyes. Damian, for his part, was wearing a grey top and black pants. It had been a long time since the two of them had played video games together, what with Damian’s studies and the two of them always busy saving the world. Jon had hoped for a glimmer of the old days in which the two would eat ice cream and Jon would explain normal things to Damian like riding the bus or hanging out at the beach. Damian would go on and on about fighting techniques and about his suspicions about various people in the city. He even had the suspicion that Bruce Wayne was paying somebody off (or maybe several somebodys) in the Gotham police force since half of his extended side-kicks did not wear hairnets (“How could they NOT know who we are?? No cop is THAT bad at their job!”). 

They had spent so many hours sharing stories and talking about important things (like which stretches felt the best to do and which kinds of underwear they enjoyed wearing). Tonight though, Damian, instead of pulling out any game stations or even setting up pillows for them to rest on (since his front quarters were largely devoid of features), he was just standing in the middle of the room looking Jon up and down. That concerned Jon, even though he quite enjoyed it. He had purposely left his shirt in the bathroom.

Damian saw the youthful joy evaporate out of the budding teen and saw it replaced with genuine concern, though he did his best to be strong about it (and Jon’s best was great). He supposed that he was the one who best taught the meta-human to hide his realest emotions, and he felt a certain pride in that (even though he sometimes missed how elated and unchecked the boy had been in years prior). 

Jon walked towards him slowly, cautiously. 

“Hey, Dami. Are you okay? You’ve been awfully quiet tonight and your heart rate is actually accelerated.” He let the question hang in the air for a moment. “Also, I don’t see any games out. Is something going on?” He considered his words. “I know that I’m still a bit of a goof, but you know you can tell me anything, right?”

Damian looked at him for a moment and then cleared his throat. Jon had a sinking feeling in his stomach. Something was going on for sure.

“Jon. I did not let us leave early because I want to play video games.” Duh, thought Superboy, though he said nothing, waiting to hear what had his friend acting so oddly. “But I would like you to sleep over.” A slight blush had crept into his face. He was allowing that, or so he told himself.

Jon made to move forward to check his temperature, noticing the discoloration, but Damian put out his hand to stop him. Feeling his bare chest with his bare hand would have sent chills up a weaker person’s spine. He could smell Jon’s scent under his favourite soap.

“I wanted to show you something. “ He moved his hand away from his friend’s bare chest and held it up for Jon to take. Jon eyed it for just the slightest moment before taking it in his own. He didn’t bother to suppress his heart’s beating faster because he trusted Damian with his life. In some way, he always had.

He wanted to make a crack, but he kept his humor in check until he could figure out further what was going on.

Damian, usually so forward and blunt, guided Jon gently towards his bedroom door with a gentleness and poise that made Jon think persistently about aristocracy and fine art. He could be so charming and elegant when he wanted to be. 

There was the faintest smell coming from his best friend’s room, but he could not place what it was until Damian opened the door, being so in awe of what may be about to happen.

Candles. The whole room was filled with bright white candles. And Damian’s bed had been covered in red and blue flower petals. The room positively twinkled.

For all of his training, Jon let himself marvel at the scene for a moment. It was the prettiest state of Dami’s room that Jon had even seen. Suddenly, he felt himself getting hopeful and full of emotion. He felt Damian squeeze his hand ever so slightly and turned first back to him, then back to the room, then back to his best friend.

He wanted so badly to hug him, but he was skeptical that he was seeing things correctly. 

“Jon.” Damian whispered

“Damian.” Jon whispered back once the moment had pressed on. Being this close, he could really smell the night that his partner had had: the vigilance, the emotion, the anticipation. The smell of him that clung to his bedroom seemed to only be amplified by the bright candles, which smelled only very faintly of some spice. And maybe vanilla.

Damian pulled Jon’s hand close to his face and laid a gentle kiss on the top of it, suddenly not nervous at all. It was obvious that Jon was very into this. He held his bottom lip in his teeth when Damian kissed his hand, looking down at him gently with those deeply sapphire eyes. Damian looked up at him with his own deeply emerald ones.

“I love you, Jon.” Superboy was so still that he could have been a statue. “I couldn’t accept it at first, but I have wrestled with this knowledge for years. When I finally accepted it, I kept making up excuses for why it wouldn’t be right to tell you.” Jon’s beautiful blue eyes were noting every micro-expression that Damian was making. “You are my partner, and I trust you. I trust you more than I trust anyone.” Thoughts were lingering in his head concerning a younger Jon. A more careless Jon. As much as he treasured those memories, because he truly did, this bolder, more confident Jon honestly turned him on so much. Jon was going to be a superhero to rival even his father, the Man of Steel.

Jon wanted so badly to kiss Damian. He had started to blush ever so slightly, the most prominent of the phenomenon happening in his ears. His adorable ears.

“I think you’ve already figured out what I want to say, but Jon,” they locked eyes, “I love you. There are so many things I admire about you, and watching you grow up has been one of the most exciting things that I’ve ever done. I want to be with you always. I want… to be your boy wonder.” He kissed Jon’s hand again, making them both blush.

All of this praise from someone usually so stern was flooding over Jon like the sunshine on the farm. He saw so much sincerity in those beautiful green eyes that his skin had started to get hot. He could feel his excitement stirring, so he leaned in and kissed him.

Damian searched his eyes back and forth so rapidly, looking as scared as Jon had ever seen him, before closing his eyes and moaning a bit, kissing Jon back. The two kept their lips pressed together for the perfect amount of time before breaking their kiss over and over to kiss again and again, slowly at first, then with growing urgency as years’ worth of unsaid words came flooding into both of their hearts. Eventually, Damian arched his back to let Jon run his hand up and down it, pressing into him at the hips

Damian, usually so in control, was scooped up for the second time that night by the boy of steel, who carried him gently to his bed and placed him down, overwhelmed by the last few minutes of his life. His gaze searched over the candles and the flower petals again and again, drinking in the gesture to his heart’s content. He was enamored and elated. There was even a part of him that was so tremendously relieved. He had waited so patiently, always believing somewhere in his heart that his greatest pal felt the same way about him.

“Do you like it?” Damian asked. Jon picked up the smallest tremor in his voice. He knew that emotions could be really hard for him. They had spent hours upon hours talking about the League of Shadows and what it had been like for Damian as a young trained killer. In that moment, Jon felt like his father, Superman: valiant and right. He was going to save the day.

“Dami... This is amazing. You’re amazing.” He leaned in for another kiss. Damian was obviously (to Jon) at a loss as to what would happen next. Jon put everything that he could into exuding peace and confidence, even though his insides were doing triple-backflips and his erection had sprung up at full force. Damian, of course, did not fail to notice this, and had not failed to notice it even when they had been kissing in the doorway, but for once, he wanted Superboy to take the lead. After all, Jon was still only fourteen, and even though he was a superhero and a stand-up young man, he was still a boy, and Damian wanted nothing more than for the both of them to be comfortable and consenting to whatever came of their relationship. He smiled at his own calculating even in the midst of such rapturous relief. Some habits just never went away.

Jon broke their kiss to lick Damian’s neck, who let out a moan and wrapped his arms around Jon’s neck. Jon shuddered when Damian put one of his hands into his hair, so he bit gently into the other’s neck to elicit another moan from the budding crime-fighter. He memorized every pitch and cadence of those moans, and he picked up quite quickly just how best to turn his lover on.

“I used to have dreams about you.” Jon whispered into Robin’s ear. Damian allowed himself a shudder. He had never felt anything like this. He wanted Jon so badly. Surprisingly, he was also a very vivid dreamer, and he had enjoyed many a wet dream in which Superboy had flown in through his window bathed in moonlight to rescue him from his inner turmoils.

“I still think about you all the time.” Jon continued, licking his ear slowly. Damian allowed himself another shudder, much to Jon’s delight, whose erection throbbed. He could hear every fiber of his beloved’s body moving. He especially noted the blood running to Damian’s own expanding erection. He wanted so badly to grind into it with his own, but he held back, kissing Damian’s ear, running his hand up under his grey top. It made them both moan softly in the warmth of the flickering candle-light. 

“I think about you, Damian. When I’m sad.” He planted a kiss on his neck. “When I’m happy.” Another kiss against his jawline. “When I touch myself.” He shuddered, feeling Damian’s hands start to explore his sculpted torso. He leaned in and kissed Damian again, filling himself up with every sensation that he could drink in from his heightened senses. Eventually, he did start to grind down into Damian’s lap with his own, eliciting moans from them both.

He broke away just far enough to look into those maddeningly green eyes.

“Dami, why didn’t you say something sooner? Why didn’t you tell me?” His eyes were gazing so deeply yet softly into the other boy’s. He genuinely would have loved for him to had said something sooner. Now that they were together like this, he realized how he had ached to be with him. How he had considered everything about him while away or while on missions together. Everything felt so right now between them, and Jon wanted to know that he was trusted.

“You know me, Jon. I had to be sure.” He smiled as sheepishly as someone like him would. “I had to be in control.” He leaned forward this time and kissed his super best friend. Jon snuck his tongue into Damian’s mouth for just a moment before Robin broke away. “And I didn’t want to hurt you.” Damian rubbed his biceps, filling Jon with a heat and desire. It also filled him with a deep calm. He had longed to be this close to Damian. He breathed in the smell of his tan skin. He wanted to pull Dami’s shirt off.

“I love you, Damian. You don’t ever hurt me.” He rubbed his head and hair against the other’s face, running his other hand up inside Damian’s shirt. This time, when Damian arched his back slightly, Jon pulled him closer and continued to grind their laps together. They were both exceptionally hard now, and Jon had been leaking precum.

“But I had to be sure. I had to be ready to be deserving of something like this. I had to be better. Older. For you.” Damian ran his hands over Jon’s chest while he spoke, his eyes looking over every curve of Superboy’s upper body. It made Jon feel super sexy.

He pulled a hand out to rub Damian’s face, who moaned gently. Jon was never going to forget this night. He was truly swept off of his feet, and so grateful to hear what Dami had to say.

“You deserve so much more credit than you give yourself, Damian. You’re an amazing person.” He pulled his partner down into his lap gently, Jon’s strong knees holding him up. He could get used to being on top of Damian like this. He could reeeeally get used to having his cute butt pressed up against his hard member. All of that aside, more was going on inside of his heart than was going on inside of his pants. He grabbed Damian’s hands in his own, pulling him off of the tender exploration of his body.

“Do you know how much I’ve looked up to you ever since we were kids?” He could tell that Damian still thought they were kids, even if he knew that they were more mature than most adults, at least when it came to peace and safety. “I have always admired you, Damian Wayne. The strength of your character. The discipline of your life. Why do you think I’ve been working so hard to be a better hero?” He kissed Damian’s hands. “I want to deserve to be your partner. You’re so inspiring to me.” Damian, looking uncomfortable at so much praise, sat up to give Jon a kiss, but for once, Jon stopped him (albeit more gently than Robin would have), and pressed him back into the bed. He lifted Damian’s shirt up and started kissing his belly and chest. Damian moaned and wrapped his legs around Jon.

“Jonathan.” He breathed out, digging his fingers into Superboy’s hair. Jon kissed his chest and belly, trailing down past his belly button to lick the hair growing in a happy trail down from it. He ran his hands over Damian’s chest, making him moan and pull on Jon’s hair more.

This was the hottest thing that the young Wayne had ever experienced. He did not allow himself the luxuries of a sex life, and on those rare occasions in which he had allowed himself to explore his own sexual needs, the fantasies that he had had of Jon were nothing like this. Damian could feel the raw strength and restraint of his best friend, and he loved it. He felt so safe in Jon’s hands. He felt so warm and accepted. In all fairness, he had been such a nervous wreck for months trying to figure out how to bring this to Superboy’s attention. Not that he ever let any of that show, really, even to himself. This was such a welcome relief. He was ecstatic at Jon’s praise of him.

“Jon.” He panted, seemingly at a loss for words. Jon, however, knew what he wanted. He wanted nothing more at this moment than to kiss Damian Wayne where the sun didn’t shine, so he pulled down his exercise pants. If he had been nervous that Damian would stop him, he found out quickly that he had no reason to be. Damian was giving himself to the young superhero, and it made him feel so sexy that he just couldn’t hold back.

Damian’s erection revealed itself, uncut and beautiful, the tip glistening with precum. Jon stuck out his tongue and licked it up, tasting his best friend for the first time. Both young men were watching each other, loving the other’s motions and reactions. Damian hissed through his teeth when Jon licked him and started to moan when he licked up his whole length. Jon loved the slightly-salty taste and found himself massaging Damian’s abs while he took his member in his mouth and started to press it into the back of his throat.

Damian moaned his name and dug his fingers into Jon’s hair, feeling more turned on than he ever had been in his life. In those moments with Jon, he found himself forgetting about the League of Shadows. He found himself forgetting about his father, and his mother, and about the weight of the world and the crime within it. For once in his life, he completely relaxed, and he let himself belong to Jon. He wanted nothing more than to let this play out.

Jon bobbed his head up and down, leaking more precum into the pajama-bottoms that he kept at Wayne Manor. He was delighted to discover that he did not have a gag reflex, and he took full advantage of that by sucking Damian’s sweet cock into the back of his throat again and again. He could taste Damian’s precum on his tongue, and he could hear both of their hearts hammering away in their chests. He was loving the sensation of his lover’s lungs filling with air, and decompressing. He was loving the flicker of the candle-light and the feel of the silk sheets beneath him. He was loving the flower petals and the moans and being dominant in that moment. But most of all, he was in love with Damian. He felt it in every sinew of his being, and he could feel the love that Damian had for him radiating out of him while he sucked his best friend’s dick.

All at once, Damian took off his own shirt, and that made Jon want to take off his increasingly messed pants off, so he did. While Jon stripped the superman bottoms, Damian took off his own pants, and this time, when Jon came back down, he was pulled upwards into a kiss. Damian wrapped a rugged hand around Jon’s tantalizing cock. 

Jon moaned, running his own hands up and down Damian’s sides while he started to stroke him off. Damian quickly discovered Jon’s pre and spread it all over his head with his thumb, rubbing up and down his length while sucking on his tongue. Jon began to return the favor. They were both moaning pretty heavily now, and the room was filling up with the smell of their sexual interaction. Their hearts were filling up with so many things, too: Jon’s with excitement and anticipation, Damian’s with relief and gratitude.

With much kissing and touching, groping and licking, Damian somehow ended up on top of Jon, and it was his turn to do the dick sucking. He smiled down at Jon, love showing in his big green eyes, his lovely black hair messy and full of Jon’s scent. He was jacking Jon off, dragging out the moment before he would go down on him.

“Is this okay?” He asked. The genuine concern in his voice was enough to make glaciers melt, or so Jon thought. 

“This is perfect. You’re perfect.” He smiled, totally wrapped up in the feeling of his partner’s rugged hands having been all over his body. Though Jon was younger than Damian, his own manhood was just a bit longer than Damian’s. Damian thought it was so cute.

He draped his head down and kissed the tip before looking up at the blushing Jon.

“You’ve thought about me when you touch yourself, eh, Superboy?” His teasing was enough to make Jon’s cock twitch in his hand. He moaned and nodded at his friend’s teasing. 

“All the time.” He exclaimed softly, trying to sound romantic. He was afraid for a quick moment that he did not, but Damian actually chuckled and dipped down to suck on his head, feeling out Jon’s foreskin with his tongue. His exploration of Jon’s cock was much slower than Jon’s had been of his, but Jon was super grateful for this. Damian kissed and licked and sucked and stroked. Jon was in Heaven. He moaned Damian’s name every so often, pressing his hips up into Damian’s tender lips, looking around at the candles, heart full of joy. He didn’t know how long he could hold out.

“D-Damian, if you keep doing that, I’m gonna cum.” He whispered urgently to his new lover.

Damian looked up confidently and coyly, making Jon twitch again in his hand. Damian licked his own lips, teasing Jon. 

“Do you want to cum?” he asked quietly, obviously very taken with the feelings that he had been suppressing for so many years.

Jon’s head spun. Since when was Damian so absolutely sexy? (Since always, he thought to himself.)

He fumbled for words.

“I mean, yeah, I want to cum with you, but.. I dunno… I want you to get off, too.” He said sweetly, waiting tentatively, throbbing in Damian’s rough hand. Damian appeared to think for a moment, stroking Jon’s cock slowly and methodically, relishing the moment. Jon couldn’t help but moan and smile. He liked Damian’s attitude, and he was happy to see him back at his playful self, even though he had been enjoying the change in their power dynamic.

“Do you want to go all the way?” Damian asked gently, still stroking Jon’s dick softly, planting a kiss against it. Jon blushed at the thought, remembering all of the times that he had fingered himself to the thought of his partner.

“Of course I do.” He replied confidently, watching Damian brighten. Damian bobbed back down onto his cock, but this time, he snaked a finger first around and then into Jon’s tight pink hole. Jon moaned in earnest and clutched the sheets before bringing his hands up to rub Damian’s head. Before long, Damian worked in another finger but then stopped everything to run his tongue along Jon’s hole.

Fireworks went off in Jon’s head. He moaned deeply at Damian’s licking and tongue-prodding. Damian moaned, too, rubbing lube that had been under the bed all over his hard cock. He continued to toss Jon’s salad.

This is really happening, thought Jon. Damian was just going along with what Jon wanted. He learned very quickly that he loved pleasing Jon. It brought him a deep satisfaction that few things ever did.

When Jon had been worked into a frenzy by his sexy partner, Damian moved up into position, Jon’s legs wrapping around him. They kissed for quite some time before Jon moaned his name and told him to take him. “Make love to me.” Jon whispered. Damian happily obliged. He was grateful then for even his earlier life. If he had not been brought up to have been made of steel, he might not be here with the boy of Steel, ready to take his virginity. He may have just fallen apart.

Taking in the older boy’s dick was serene since they were both so worked up. Years of tension and daydreams coalesced in the moment that Damian stuck his dick into Jon. Jon started working his hips in time with Damian’s, both of them kissing and biting and rubbing the other all the while. Their first time was magical, and Damian was so tender that Jonathan whimpered against him before they both eventually came, Jon all over himself, Damian into Jon.

That didn’t stop them though. They were superheroes, after all.

Damian licked up Jon’s cum and kept driving his manhood into him. Jon eventually wound up on top and rode Damian’s dick until they both came again, moaning each other’s names and sharing all of the deep, secret thoughts that they had had about one another over the years.

They lay there with one another afterwards, still talking and sharing, breathing in the scents of one another and exploring each other’s bodies earnestly. With their kissing and petting, they eventually got worked up enough again for Jon to top Damian this time, holding the other hero close in the doggy position. Damian discovered that he loved Jon’s cock, and he made a mental note to suck it or to have it inside of himself whenever the boy would allow. He felt so safe in Jon’s arms, and they both loved the power shift. Damian really liked being submissive for Jon.

They came again and had enough energy left over to cum again with each other, Jon instinctively turning Damian sideways, Jon still over him, pumping his seed into Damian for the second time that night (to return the favor, of course).

They touched every part of each other that they could and shared even more of their inner men with each other. The sun was more than peaking over the curve of the world when the two of them started to fall asleep, Damian’s back pressed firmly against Jon’s front, both of them watching the sun rise, the candles all self-extinguished (as they had been designed to do). Jon kept planting soft kisses against Damian’s neck, and Damian pressed himself so closely against Jon that they both lost where one started and the other ended. They fell asleep holding hands in that position.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

When they both woke, sore in all the best ways, they shared each other again, Jon entering Damian from behind this time. Their love making was slow and easy, both of them taking immense comfort in the pleasure of the other.

After they had spent their seed again, they talked for a while about their lives and about their feelings for one another before Jon bent over and planted his chest in the bed, letting Damian make love to him again, both boys on their knees.

They were both covered in sweat, and hickeys, and cum, so they decided to take a shower together in which they both thought about topping the other but only ended up smiling sweetly and kissing lightly while washing each other and rubbing their erections together. It was the sweetest thing either of them had experienced, and they went down to the kitchen to eat positively glowing, both wearing what the other had on the previous night.

“Woah, geez, put a shirt on, bird boy.” Jason Todd teased, leaning against the wall of the kitchen eating something that smelled amazing and drinking coffee.

“Oh, grow up, Todd. You’ve seen me in worse states.” Damian snapped back. Jon just blushed, realizing again that they were both covered in love bites and marks.

“Yeah, but how are you supposed to fight crime looking like Superboy was a cannibal all night?” Jason retorted. Jon’s blush deepened. Damian actually didn’t reply, which surprised Jon. 

They were rescued by Alfred, who had the uncanny knack of showing up just when he was needed.

“And shall I make breakfast for the two of you young gentlemen?” He asked smoothly, quite unperturbed by the sight of them. Jon looked visibly relieved, feeling younger than he had in quite some time. Damian cleared his throat. 

“Yes, Pennyworth. We shall have whatever you find fitting.” Damian replied, showing Alfred even more respect than he had been developing over the last while.

“Speaking of fitting--” Jason said, clearly intent on humiliating the boys. Jon blushed even deeper, but was finally regaining his hero confidence and seeming to remember who he was after letting so much out last night. Damian had already opened his mouth to breath out a threat when Nightwing came into the kitchen, having heard the commotion.

“Okaaay!” He exclaimed after surveying the scene, grabbing Jason by the shoulders and starting to lead him out of the room.”Time for some fresh air.”

“Hey, wait, I haven’t even finished my coffee yet!” Jason squealed. Dick gave Damian a once over before giving him a curious look. The two exchanged non-verbal information, and Jon noticed that Damian looked relieved and grateful. It stirred his heartstrings.

Damian cleared his throat again. “I, uh. I am going to go put on a shirt, Pennyworth. Please see after the young master Kent while I am away.” He said, turning to go grab more covering.

“A fitting idea, young master Wayne. I shall do my utmost to entertain him.” Alfred replied, a smile in his wise old eyes. He was working away at the stove preparing a meal that smelled better at every moment. Jon stood there bashfully for a moment before taking a seat at the table. He had always really liked Alfred, and he was happy to have a moment alone with him to collect himself and to recover his inner hero. Alfred admired his posture, having always liked the boy.

“A cold spoon pressed against those could help to clear them up, you know. And I have some ointment that I could provide.” Alfred said, not even turning around from his work. Jon thought again how like ninjas they all were at Wayne Manor, even without his or his father’s abilities to aid them. He had been unconsciously rubbing a hickey on his neck, thinking about Damian. 

“Oh, no. That’s okay, sir. I-uhm.. I actually really like them.” He said, blushing again at the thought of being so close at last with the young man that he had desired for so long. He revelled in the fact that he was wearing Damian’s workout clothes. They smelled of him.

Without his turning around, Damian could tell that Alfred was smiling. They talked casually about growing up and the nature of joy to keep the silence at bay. Before long, the kindly butler had placed a plate of hot food in front of the boy, whose stomach chose that moment to gurgle in hunger. Jon thanked Alfred considerably. He always felt that he was underappreciated, even though he knew that he was well taken care of and really part of the Bat-team.

“Was everything to your liking?” Alfred asked him, Jon getting his meaning. He smiled up at the kind man, not bothered at all by the question. He was actually really glad that somebody could share the knowledge with him.

“It was amazing, sir! Thank you so much for asking. Really.” he replied, getting another smile from Alfred, who stalked away to bring another plate to the table just as Damian was entering the kitchen again.

Jon swooned at what he was wearing: a superman shirt that Jon had left over here once on a sleepover. Since Jon had always been taller than Damian, it fit like a glove. They both caught each other’s eyes and smiled, Jon much more openly than Damian. 

“Breakfast is served, young master Wayne.” Alfred said.

Damian knew that Alfred had fetched Dick after he heard the two of them getting up. He had set up Damian’s room last night and had made them their favorite breakfast. He reached out his hand to take Jon’s and give it a kiss. He looked up at Alfred with more adoration and love than usual, and it warmed the old man’s heart. “Thank you, Pennyworth. We are truly grateful.”

Alfred bowed curtly and left them to enjoy their breakfast together.


	2. Snowflakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Superboy and Robin are involved in stopping a robbery of sorts. This is a point in the plot after their first sexual encounter together. Enjoy~

It was a bright and snowy day in beautiful Metropolis. There seemed to be a cheer in the air as the various Holidays ensued. Even though the wind whipped the air, there was a warmth to it all that softened the hardest of hearts. Various space wars and villainy had seemed to subside, and there was a peace in the air not unlike the sunlight that was breaking through the clouds high above the world. Smells of spices and songs of cheer wafted in the wind.

And there he was, high above the city, his hair whipping about in the high altitude, his cape hanging down towards the earth: the mighty Superboy, defender of Earth and of purity, smeller of pies and of various sweet treats from down below, boyfriend of the cunning and determined Robin. He was floating upside down, which he loved to do, his cape billowing out around him but never getting in the way of his super vision tracking the patterns of fair citizens below. He could hear the hustle and bustle of his beloved friends moving about their business, taking comfort in the great Superman and his son present somewhere among them, protecting their lives. Jon's smile swelled with the elation of thoughts of noble duties and his father. His chest pushed outwards, his back straightened, and his skin reminisced over and over again its joys with Damian Wayne. Jon could feel him running his hands through his hair, over his back, up his thighs, and down his chest, and it gave him a hard-on that he did not even remotely try to suppress.

Deep within his heart had descended a great calm, like the eye of a great storm. He had been aware of his attractions to his partner for so long, but he had not fully understood the gravity of their connection, or his own longing for the deepening of it. He knew now. This lightness that had crept up from the most primal aspects of his nature told him everything that he needed to know about his feelings for his handsome Damian. He knew that somewhere out there in the world, Robin was thinking about him, and he took even more comfort in the thought.

Jon watched as snow fell all around him, lightly descending onto the towering, glistening mass of engenuity below, delighting in the pulsing rhythms of its flight. From his perspective, it could have been rising, but he knew better. It still make him laugh to himself internally. His legs were crossed, and his fingers were in a "mudra" that he had learned from one of the various super beings that came with being a part of Superman's family and with hanging around the Justice League. With all of the excitement from his new relationship with Damian, he had needed something to ground him to the physical, since his heart had so earnestly been swept up in rejoicing. He remembered a talk with a green man about Buddhism, so he had looked up online how to do various meditations and what some of the hand gestures meant. One of his favorite things that would happen is when he would be sitting cross-legged above the floor in a sort of elation, letting his whole being unwind within himself, when Damian would come in and slide his legs under his and wrap his arms around him. They had made love after the first time that Damian had done this, Jon twisting around in his lap to face the playful young man. They had kissed deeply and passionately, ending up in midair in their passions, Jon on his back, Damian strong and daring above him, working himself in and out of Superboy while supporting himself on strong arms. They had laughed about Jon's ease over his powers then, but it only drove him to want to master himself more, and it certainly solidified the practice in his daily routine, a part of him reminded of and cherishing their passion together whenever he would touch fingertips in a new mudra.

He wanted his lover right then and there, miles and miles above the city. He would love to close his lips around Damian's head, locked in a 69 position high above the world. He could almost taste Damian's seed. His bulge twitched, and he smiled. 

He also wanted to be a good hero, and good heroes stayed vigilant. He had learned that best from his father and from Robin, both of whom he adored, though obviously in quite different ways. Thinking about his father, he let his senses stretch out, inhaling a deep, icy breath that he observed working its way into his lungs and then throughout his body. Focusing on his inner workings and on the tides of the people below, he exhaled deeply, observing his body, his feelings, the pull of the air around him, the smells, the sounds, various ongoings below, and he concentrated. He concentrated on Damian and on his duties as a hero, and he let those things strengthen him. He let his good intentions fill his core and spread outwards from his self even into the very wind that surrounded him, and he relaxed. Something was going on in his thinking, and he wanted to work through it, allowing himself to focus on the world and on his connection with it.

As he mused on the nature of what being a hero really meant, he noticed something very pleasant in the periphery of his senses, almost on the other side of city. Without forcing the motion, he had started floating that way, almost as bright as the sun breaking through more clouds, illuminating the snowfall. Thousands upon thousands of icy flakes roamed the skies with Jon as he came over his target. Uncrossing his legs, breaking his mudras, he let himself fall to the earth, aiding his descent with his powers to pick up speed and subtlety. But he knew that he'd been spotted. He swore that he could feel Damian's joy about it. Not wanting to break their charade, he floated down to the top of a very tall, white building covered in glass windows. He gently eased himself until his head was right behind Robin's, doing everything that he could to not cast any kind of a shadow or to hint at his descent. He was still upside down, but he had tucked his cape into his jeans to keep it from hanging down or from whipping in the wind. 

Robin turned around slowly, lifting up his arms to embrace Jon, whom he genuinely surprised by granting a kiss, pulling him lower than he had been. Jon, blushing now, turned upside-down (or right-side up) in mid-air, coming to land gently on his feet. Damian was actually smirking.

"You are late, sweetheart. I have been here for nearly three minutes." he quipped.

Jon regained his composure quickly, wrapping his arms around Robin to hug him before breaking their embrace. "I felt you enter the city, but I was meditating." They shared a glace, both of them remembering their many times together. Jon found himself thinking about all of the scars that he had kissed all over Damian's body again and again. Damian, however, was concentrating on his ear-piece. There was activity going on below them inside of the building. Jon noticed his focus was going there, so he honed in on the activity.

"Is this why I haven't seen you this week? Did you track them down?"

"Yes. I tracked their interest here to LexCorp. Whoever they are, they're quite sloppy. I almost suspect a ruse." Robin spoke, giving Jon the impression that he knew what he was talking about, which he did.

"LexCorp?" Jon looked inside the building that they were in, acutely aware of what the name stirred in his consciousness. "Robin, there are men here with guns. They're climbing to the (he thought for a moment) 56th floor. There are several people in there."

"Shit!" Robin swore, pulling a small communication device near his beautiful lips. "Our intel was wrong. They're moving now." Jon got the feeling that Dick was on the other end of that communication, but he could not be quite sure. He heard cursing on the other end, then instructions.

"I'll go keep on eye on things in case they take hostages. I have your back." He said calmly to his partner, flying into the sky to a better vantage point even as Robin ran towards an air duct, busting it open with a batarang before disappearing inside of it. 

From up above, Superboy circled the building to get a clearer view with his x-ray vision of the supposed thugs or super criminals (it was getting hard to tell between them these days). He watched as they climbed flights of stairs, apparently intent on the same floor that Jon had thought they were heading towards. The floor with the workers in it. He did not want to break glass, so he scoured the building for an open window. When he found one, he heard and saw the criminals entering the floor with the workers on it. The LexCorp employees stood up, scared of the intruders, who were holding up weapons. Jon flew in gracefully through the open windows and came to the stairwell quietly, not wanting to alert the thugs of his presence. He ascended quickly, listening and watching. Damian was in position in an air duct above the thugs, who were giving the employees orders. Jon arrived at the floor where the action was happening just as Robin burst in through the air duct, tackling what appeared to be the lead assailant. Two guns turned onto Robin simultaneously. He dived out of the way, but a third gun, aimed at his head, went off. The bullets were crushed against Jon's Forcefield. He was standing defiantly and triumphantly in front of his partner, shielding him from any danger.

Before any of the assailants could react, Robin had thrown batarangs at two of them, and Jon had aimed his heat vision at the remaining four, heating their guns and disabling them. One of the crooks aimed a knife at one of the employees, who screamed, but Jon was able to blast it out of its course with his heat vision once more. He flew to the man and lifted him up to the ceiling in a stirring, fluid movement. In moments like this, Damian reflected how perfectly fortunate it was that Jon was Jon and not a super villain. Jon would truly be intimidating if he weren't so decent and kind. 

Superboy smiled at the assailant, who spit in his face, swearing in Armenian.

"You know, sir, that's not very nice of you." In a flash, they were spinning around at supersonic speeds. The other criminals rallied, pulling out auxiliary weapons, two of them working away madly at computers while Jon spun the two of them around until the man passed out. He dropped him mostly gently onto a desk, severing critical components in the machines with his heat vision while Robin dealt with the remaining threats.

"We were narked on. Get out of here!" One of the thugs hollered. Before any of them could make a move, however, Superman and the Martian Man Hunter appeared, rising up through the floor. Damian looked annoyed to Jon, but Jon was pleased. He loved his father so much, and he knew that the violence would stop here. Nobody wanted to fight Superman (nobody even remotely in their right mind, anyway). This also made him happy because he did not want to hurt anyone else, not that he really had. Robin, on the other hand, had kicked one of the assailants in the face. The woman, whose mask had come up, was laying crumpled on the floor with two of her teeth laying on the floor next to her.

Jon was still doing his best to be aware of the whole situation, stretching out his senses further and further from himself. He knew that one of the criminals had escaped. They had been on a separate floor, invisible to the naked eye (and even to many forms of electronic detection). He got the feeling that the Martian Man Hunter and his father already knew this.

"That's enough. I don't know why you came here today, but it would be in your best interest to settle down. The police are on their way." Superman spoke boldly and calmly, collected and heroic. Jon admired him so much. He could almost feel the wisdom radiating from his person.

Robin moved away from the action to speak into his communication device. He spent the next several minutes conversing quietly with what sounded to Jon like several different people. This must have been a really coordinated effort on his part. He wondered if the Teen Titans were involved at all, but something in his gut told him that they were not.

The Martian Man Hunter was tending to the wounds of several of the criminals while Superman began speaking with the employees, several of whom looked a little shaken up. One was visibly upset, yelling at Superman. Jon had seen his father speak with members of alien races intent upon vengeance towards the whole earth, so he was confident that he could get the woman to calm down, or at least to stop shouting about super powered freaks and people with guns.

Jon walked over to the man that had been swearing at him. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out and cracked open a packet of smelling salts, ready for the man to resume his violent behaviour. However, as the man came to, he did not start shouting or anything. He merely looked up at Jon with a sort of hollow hatred. He seemed quite dejected. 

"The police are on their way, sir. I am sorry that I had to use force against you."

The man looked as though he were going to spit at Jon again, but looking around at Superman talking to the now quiet, ashen-faced woman, his cohorts gathered in the center of the room, and Robin speaking into his communicator away from them all, he seemed to decide better of it. He simply glowered around the room and seethed silently to himself, probably muttering some choice curse words in Armenian to himself in his head.

Jon felt sorry for the man. He thought it was pretty crazy to try to rob Lex Luthor. Whatever was going on, these people must have been pretty desperate. Jon, from getting to know Damian so intimately, was very aware of how good his upbringing had been. Enhanced abilities aside, his parents were terrific, and he had always loved his chores and his school. He had ideals to live up to, and morality to call upon to guide him. He had hours upon hours of happy memories to draw from when he was in a slump, and now he had an amazing, affectionate boyfriend (who seemed to have disappeared from the room). He wondered what had driven this group to crime, as he often wondered about those who were obviously less fortunate than himself or his beloved Damian.

"Are you hurt at all? Would you like a drink of water?" he asked the scowling, sulky man. The man pretended to ignore him, but he recognized curiosity, however faint, when he saw it, so he decided to sit with the man while the two older heroes interrogated the crooks and consoled the employees. Jon heard his father say that turning the system back on would be a bad idea for now, and that they should just wait for Lex Luthor, who would be arriving with the police shortly.

Jon stained his senses and was aware that his father was right.

Superman walked over to the two of them. The man started cursing again, making gestures at the Man of Steel that Superboy assumed were quite rude.

"Sir, please don't be upset. We are just doing our best to keep people safe. We want you to be safe, too." he told the man, who scoffed, rolling his eyes before going quiet again. Jon was used to things like this, and he felt proud of himself for standing up straight and tall, just like his father. They walked away from the scene to discuss in super low whispers what has happened. To the casual observer unaware of their hearing abilities, they could have been communicating by telepathy.

"Well. I appreciate what you've done here today, Superboy. I think you have earned a few days to rest." Jon took his father's words as a great compliment, even though he sincerely enjoyed his super hero work.

Just then, Lex Luthor arrived with the police. Jon had never felt such a scathing energy from a human being. Luthor strolled into the room changing everything about the tone of it. The employees straightened up. Some cast their eyes away. Two of the criminals were shaking. The man Jon had talked to made more crude gestures and gibbered away angrily. It would have been a convincing display if Jon hadn't learned so much about people in the last few years.

"Superman, why does this guy hate you so much?" Jon muttered below human hearing.

"I saved his life once. He never forgave me." Superman's confidence and control of himself had not waned for a moment since he had arrived on the scene.

Fierce pride and anger burned in Lex Luthor's eyes at Jon's father. The light playing off of the man's bare skull have Jon reservations about him. He looked so full of malice that he could have been ill.

"Just what in the hell do you think you're doing here, Superman? You're not supposed to be within 500 feet of me or my corporation."

"I was saving your employees and your corporation from these armed thugs, Lex. You're smart enough to know that the ruling you just referred to did not stand in a court of law."

Luthor scoffed at Superman, animosity causing him to flex and tighten hiis jaw. He appeared to be doing calculations in his head.

"You are so naive, Superman. So naive." The way that Luthor spoke made him sound tired, like a wounded animal ready to strike. Jon hated the way that he kept saying 'Superman' with such scorn. The venom dripping from Luthor made it sound like a condescending insult, like Jon's father was a confused child toying with dangerous things. Jon hesitated for only a fraction of a moment.

"I was here first, Mr. Luthor, sir. I suspected a crime."

Lex examined him coldly, narrowing his eyes as though Jon had spoken quite out of turn.

"I do not require brats like you spying on my business. I have everything taken care of." Luthor spoke. The police officers at his side looked uncomfortable. One officer winked at him when they locked eyes.

"I want you super powered menaces off of my property, and I want these hooligans detained." He seemed to fancy himself in charge. Jon could feel Joe above himself Lex Luthor considered himself. The fact that he found all of them tedious and possibly inept was obvious because Luthor made it obvious. "Officers." It was a command a much as it was a complaint.

Before Jon could move, as the swat police moved forward to begin handcuffing the perpetrators, Martian Manhunter spoke.

"We have obtained information that will be pertinent to your investigation, officers. We seek to discuss matters with you in private."

The Chief nodded, looking tired, harassed, and not entirely altogether not bemused. He featured for Jon to follow him to the elevators. "If you don't mind," he spoke to Luthor, "I would like Superman to stay with my unit while they detain these suspects. He's better for protection than anything we're carrying."

Lex seemed to swallow bitter bile back, scowling at the officer. "I have several things which I need to discuss with you also. I fully expect to be debriefed on whatever information you obtain from these.." He paused, looking at J'onn, "Men. They are trespassing, and I would press charges if your reverence of them did not thoroughly obscure your objectivity." He did not seem afraid to be insulting to anyone. The cop seemed to not hear him, walking with J'onn towards the elevator. They would talk outside.

"Karen, please come with me." Luthor spoke to the woman who had been yelling earlier. She looked defeated. Lex kept his eyes Superman, apparently hoping to burn a hole into his person with his eyes alone. Jon thought he looked tremendously jealous of his father.

"I'll stay with these fine police people, Superboy. Thank you for your service." Superman said audibly enough for those in the room to hear him. 

Superboy turned to his father and face him a respectful salute. "Thank you, sir. It's an honor to fly the skies with you." 

With that, Jon was headed towards the window that he had flown in through. He sensed Lex Luthor's eyes on him as he left.

Jon sometimes had the overwhelming sense that a lot more was going on in the world than he could wrap his head around, especially when it came to adults. They seemed to have a lot of rules that largely seemed made up to him, though he had been coming to understand the purpose of some of those rules. On the whole, he was just glad that nobody got seriously injured in this incident, as he always was when nobody did. 

He was a little bummed out that Damian had left the scene so quickly, but he assumed that he had gone to follow up with the other members of his team about important business. He knew the cost of this lifestyle, and he was proud to be able to say that he did his best to carry the burden of it.

He was just taking off up into the sky when he heard a whistle 60 stories below (several blocks away) that was clearly directed at him, so he looked down through the falling snowflakes, his breath pluming out in front of him.

Standing on a side street, in civilian attire, stood his wonderful boyfriend, two hot chocolates in hand. Jon could make out the faintest aroma of dark chocolate, cinnamon, and honey and suddenly remembered that his favorite coffee shop was just a dozen city blocks or so from the LexCorp building. His heart swelled in his chest. He was already floating downward, huge smile on his face, so he looked around with super speed and then zipped down to Damian, who held both drinks high in the air to let his Superboy hug him, lifting them both up off the street momentarily. Jon nuzzled Robin's neck and kissed his cheek, setting them both down.

In a flash of light and power, he had disappeared into a neighbouring building somewhere. From an alleyway came Jonathan Kent, now sporting a cloth backpack over his T-shirt (a bright red robin on the front of it), baseball cap, and glasses. His smile wrapped from ear to ear as he strolled over. Damian met him in the street, handing him his hot, frothy beverage as the two extended their hand for the other to take. Damian squinted playfully at his lover's shirt. Jon smiled at him gleefully. 

"Whaaat? Do I have something on my face?" he teased. 

"Real subtle, Jon. And no, not yet." Damian planted a kiss on his lips and Superboy got a taste of the chocolate chai that Damian must have been drinking. It tasted so good that he took a generous swig from his own steaming cup (covering up the blush that had spread all over his face). Deep, rich flavor filled his mouth, and he swallowed slowly, relishing the taste and the memory of the kiss just moments before.

"I thought you left to take care of work." he remarked, petting Damian's hand with his thumb.

"I wanted to see you. It's been too long." Damian said, looking warmly into Superboy's big sapphire eyes. He took a curt drink of his own beverage. "Besides, Dick is on top of it, and so is your dad. They have it covered."

Jon felt elated to know that Damian was leaving a case to anybody other than himself. Once involved, Damian rarely gave that honor over to anyone, even his father. His tenacity was part of why Jon admired him. He felt so special that he gave Damian a kiss on the cheek. Damian made a loving sound at him. Any other couple would have been talking about the danger of the situation that they had just experienced. Jon, for his part, had saved Robin from being hit with several bullets, and the two of them had interrupted whatever mischief the criminals had been getting into. They were used to it, though. Just a regular, snowy Saturday for them.

Jon started filling his boyfriend in on everything that they had been doing in school, and in his home life, and how he felt about all of it. Damian listened with the rapt attention of an assassin sifting through dialogue for important clues. Jon did not fail to notice this, and told Damian that he loved him. Damian replied in kind and told Jon a few of the things that he had discovered on his recent mission. He also told him about a dream that he had recently, which was unusual (the dream was relatively normal, but Damian dreaming was not a common experience).

After some time, they were just rounding a corner when a black sports car pulled up to the curb in front of them. Sunny Jon was ready for pony rides into the sunset from Damian or for an assassination attempt on his life by means of kryptonite, so he was eager to see what was going to happen. With the caped crusader by his side, and elegant hot chocolate in his gut, he felt lucky just to be alive, even more so than usual.

A tall, strapping black woman stepped out of the car and threw the keys to Damian, who caught them despite still holding his half-finished chocolate chai (Jon had finished his hot chocolate relatively more quickly, though he had saved a few sips to drink along with Damian as they walked). 

"Your car, Mister Wayne." The very pretty woman called. A white sports car pulled up while this exchange was taking place, and the woman climbed in. Jon got a glimpse of a very tan man who smiled at him and winked. The second sports car pulled away before Jon had really thought much about their appearance, so he was left looking to Damian.

"What? I rented a car for us." Damian said, sauntering over to the driver's side door. He opened it and took a long sip from his warm cup. "Well? Care for a lift?" He smirked at Jon, who had been glued to the spot.

Jon let out an honest and free laugh, sending shivers up Damian's spine, before downing the rest of his beverage and climbing in the passenger seat. The car's interior was very fancy. Lights shone under the seats and at his feet. Though the little car looked small from the outside, he found that he had plenty of room to move around in it.

"What do we need a car for? I can fly." He said, setting his cup down near the shifter. He noticed that there was no center console. Although the car reeked of that new car smell, Damian's aroma overpowered it in Jon's senses. He could smell the determination rolling off of his partner. He could smell the days of concentration and physical effort. He loved it.

Damian had found out right away that Jon was very affectionate. He did not mind this at all as Jon sidled up next to him and wrapped his arms around his. He rested his head against the older teen. Damian felt like royalty pulling away from the curb.

"It's Christmas soon. I have the next few days off to spend with you in the country." The effect was worth the anticipation Damian had suffered through for the last month. He had worked hard to plan this. Jon sat up, beaming, mouth open. He playfully jabbed at Damian's arm repeatedly.

"Damiiii! What?? Does your dad know? Does my dad know?"

"Of course. I took care of everything. You have me all to yourself until the New Year."

Jon squealed and moved around in his seat, celebrating. Christmas was his favorite holiday. Damian and he had enjoyed so much fun earlier that year, painting each other's faces for Dia De Los Muertos. Jon had painted sunny flowers and big eye holes on Damian along with a big, friendly grin. Damian had painted a gaunt, angular skull onto Jon and had fed him sweets imported from Mexico.

Thanksgiving had been a big affair at Wayne Manor with several stray super heroes joining the fray to celebrate and eat Alfred's delicious cooking. Bruce had hired a team of four top cooks to help roll out the meal. There had been so many people there that had worn the Robin costume. Martian Manhunter had been there, and Jon's own parents had come. Jon had told them he was dating Damian very soon after their initial sexual encounter (the hickeys had been hard to hide, not that he tried to), and they had been very supportive. He and his mother had a long talk about supporting the heroes in their lives, and Damian had never felt closer with them.

While they had gotten to spend those special days together, holding hands and eating great food, this was going to be different. For one, it would certainly be more intimate, being held in the house in the country that Clark had inherited from his parents. They had moved into a retirement community, and while incredibly supportive in their own right, could not be bothered to leave much these days. Travel was getting hard for them, so Damian did not see them too often, though he would fly over to visit with them whenever he felt lonely for them. For another point, Damian was going to get to spend his favorite holiday sharing space with his absolute favorite person. He was now determined to make it a really special event, especially considering the fact that Damian had not celebrated any Holidays growing up.

In fact, he was going to start repaying Damian for the hot chocolate right now. 

A big grin spread across his cheerful face.

"You loooove me." He leaned against Damian, rubbing his chest through his silky shirt.

Damian blushed, picking up on Jon's tone. Jonathan Kent, son of Superman, had made the mythic son of Batman blush. He felt stronger than when he was flying around punching people.

He licked Damian's neck and then planted a kiss against it, hearing blood rush to his partner's groin. He loved having super hearing in moments like this and loved even more that Damian was dropping some of his barriers around him. It made him feel so sexy.

He ran his hand slowly up Damian’s shirt, making his partner squirm. It was the subtlest movement, but he may as well have been shivering to Jon’s senses. He made a low, affectionate sound against his lover, running his nails down Damian’s chest mostly gently. Damian let out a little moan.

“Jon. I’m trying to drive.” he said softly, keeping his attention on traffic and the road.

Jon chuckled, a sound akin to a giggle. “Awww. Am I distracting the mighty Damian Wayne?” he teased, nipping at Damian’s neck. He pulled on Damian’s left nipple, getting a little wiggle out of him.

Damian was quiet about it for a moment, letting Jon grope and kiss his various parts. He stole a quick look into Jon’s eyes while he spoke thusly, “I would like to give the beautiful Jonathan Kent my full attention.”

It was one of the incredibly sweet things that Damian had been saying to him over the past few months. Jon was a hero, too, though, and he was not going to be deterred that easily, no matter how soft his heart felt at that moment.

“We hardly ever get to just be alone like this. I want to show you my gratitude for today.” he said softly right into Damian’s ear before sticking his tongue into it. Damian was fully erect at this point, and he moved his hand over into Jon’s lap, rubbing his thigh.

“How can I resist the son of Superman?” he teased. Jonathan smiled, moving his hand lower to rub Damian’s hard cock through his pants.

“Let’s never find out.” he teased back, smelling Damian and rubbing against his petting hand. He caressed Damian’s head through his pants, rubbing his hard shaft and balls before undoing the button of his pants. Damian sucked in a breath, his cock twitching, relaxing in his seat. He moved his own hand up to trace the curves of Jon’s manhood.

Jon looked at Damian’s underwear through his pants (using his x-ray vision) and discovered that Robin was still wearing his costume under his silky black clothing. Under that, however, he was wearing a soft black jockstrap that was straining against his bulge. It took some maneuvering, but Jon was able to release Damian’s stiffy from its incarceration, dropping low to smell his package. He stuck his tongue out and encircled his head with it. Damian adjusted his arm to rub Jon’s back, neck, and hair.

“You are amazing.” he breathed softly. Jon’s heart skipped a beat, hearing such lovely words. He realized at that moment that Damian had managed to unbutton his pants, so he unzipped them and pulled them down, revealing his own leaking member. He felt Damian stiffen and knew that he was straining his own senses to observe the act while still keeping his attention on the road.

Jon was encouraged by this and planted a kiss on Damian’s dick that he pressed down on the underside of his shaft, licking its length back up it. He took it into his mouth and started sucking, relishing the taste of his skin and precum.

They had found their way onto a freeway, and Damian was relieved that their windows were so darkly tinted. He had ordered a car like that on purpose. He silently celebrated needing them to himself, even though the roads were relatively quiet since the snow had started falling more heavily.

He wanted so badly to reach down and touch Jon’s cock, but he could not reach easily from this angle. He opted instead to running a finger up Jon’s crack. Superboy moaned around Damian’s member, swirling his tongue around him again and again. He started bobbing up and down on Damian, so he slid his finger into his tight hole. Jon started stroking himself off, moaning and slurping on Damian. He had a habit of tightening his lips or throat around Damian, wanting to apply extra pressure to his head, which drove him crazy. Jon made him so happy. He slid another finger in, rubbing his prostate. Jon was leaking pre. Damian could smell it.

He moaned, whispering sweet truths to his beloved while he got serviced. This time together meant so much to them both. Though they were both really turned on, leaking pre and moaning, the car filling up with their scents, they took things easily, letting each touch and word linger over them. 

After some time, Jon had managed to work Robin’s pants down and was fondling his balls, swallowing and groaning around his moist cock. Damian salivated at the thought of Jon’s cock in his own mouth, but he needed to keep driving. He communicated to the other that he was getting close. Jon moaned in acknowledgement and continued to suck in ecstacy, wanting to taste his seed.

Several charged moments later, Damian came down Jon’s throat, Jon licking and slurping and swallowing against his cock without taking his mouth off of him. Eventually, he stopped jerking himself off and came up for air, smiling and kissing Damian’s neck. Damian chastised him, but his heart was not in it. Jon knew that. They both loved what had just happened.

Jon helped him to pull his pants back up and re-button them and made to do the same to himself. 

“Why are you stopping? I want to see you cum.” Damian looked over at Jonathan.

Jon blushed a bit. “I-I don’t want to make a mess.” he said sweetly. Damian wrapped his hand around Jon’s leaking cock and squeezed down on it, starting to massage it in his calculated, measured way. Jon leaned back in his seat and immediately started moaning. Damian ran his thumb over Jon’s head, smoothing his pre over it.

“Ohhh, Damian.” Jon moaned, squirming in his seat. He had already been close, but he missed Damian’s fingers, so he ran two of his own up into his hole. Damian looked over at him for just a moment, but that was a long time for someone as disciplined as he was. Jon fingered himself, leaking more pre over Damian’s hand. Damian made a sexy, approving sound that sent shivers through his young lover.

Damian increased his pace, making Jon gasp and moan.

“Mmmmm. Damiaaaaan.” he pleaded, wanting more but getting closer more quickly. “I don’t want to make a meeeeess.” he moaned sexily at the older boy. 

Damian took once glance over at Jon, then at his hand halfway up his crack, and made up his mind.

“Take the wheel.” he said, reaching his face over to take Jon’s member into his waiting mouth. 

Jon’s eyes widened as he reached out and took the wheel, intaking a sharp breath at feeling Damian’s warm, soft mouth around his leaking cock.

“Damian!” he said loudly, watching the road. He had never driven before, but he managed to keep the car straight despite the falling snow. Damian said nothing, sucking Damian more quickly and more firmly than he ever had previously. He was grateful that the car’s defrosting worked so well. They were both working up quite a sweat. 

As Jon relaxed, he began to finger himself again, keeping his eyes glued to the road. “Mmmm, Dami, I’m so close. I’m gonna cum.” he whispered, fingering his prostate more with renewed effort. Damian sucked approvingly on Jon, coaxing his seed to spurt out, which it did a moment later. Jon moaned deeply, bucking up slightly into Damian’s throat, feeling his hold tighten around his own fingers, which he used to massage his prostate still. Damian had shown him how much he loved the sensation in their explorations of one another.

Damian moaned, his mouth and throat filling up with cum. He loved Jon’s taste. It was a sunny taste, like his personality, electric and inviting.

When Jon had spent his load, Damian straightened up and took the wheel and Superboy giggled, pulling his pants up. 

“You jerk.” he joked, play-punching Damian in the arm.

“You loved it.” Damian teased, sticking out his tongue. A bit of cum clung to it and he slurped it up, smelling their sex filling up the interior of the car. “I loved it.” he added as Jon played at pouting.

Satisfied, Jon grabbed his arm and kissed his neck. They exchanged “I love you”s, both smiling, calm and content, watching the softly falling snow paint the world a delightful white.


	3. Ribbons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Jon and Damian enjoy all of Christmas day together. Kara, Conner, and Bruce all join the Kent couples for their celebrations in the evening. Enjoy~

They were everywhere. Christmas lights had been strung up on the tree, on the banisters, where the walls and ceiling converged, and even on the stairs. The whole house was lit up like it was made of candy. They had all arisen from slumber for different reasons, Jon and Damian sharing a tender moment in bed together, kissing softly. They loved seeing each other with bed head. Jon was actually pretty smooth about what he had done, so Damian was not expecting anything when they both took the stairs up into the living room where the rest of the Kents were assembled.

Mister and Missus Kent were left to gape and laugh softly at the exuberance of their boy. He had woken up around two in the morning to string the whole house up in more Christmas lights than had ever been present in their home. It was now around 5am.

Clark Kent, outstretching his arms to the scene before them, spoke to his son, beaming.

“Jonathan. Where did you even get all of these?”

Jon perked to hear the delight in the older man’s voice, flying up the past few stairs to face his father. Damian was on the top stair looking around at the family and at the lights.

Lois had gone to make coffee, smiling and shaking her head in joy. Damian looked around at the house, admiring Jon's work. He guessed that Superboy was paying him back for their first night together, and that thought touched a soft place in his heart associated with all of the warm, fuzzy feelings that Jon had kindled in him over the years.

“Grandma and Grandpa have been helping me all month to get ready for this!” he proclaimed, obviously pleased by his work. He had not even been away from bed long enough for Damian to miss his presence earlier. To be completely honest, Damian had been sleeping more soundly than he allowed himself to admit here at the Kent’s. Their hospitality, while it had always been present, now meant something more significant to the young heir. Being with Jon in the home that they had grown up in lent him a peace and a calm that was hard to describe. He remembered fondly having sleep overs here and babbling until the late hours of the night about their lives, their futures, and their dreams, playing games, eating junk, and teasing each other about various things.

Of course these lights had been Jon's idea. “I wanted to make this year’s Christmas extra special for all of us.” Jon said, his fists on his hips in a classic superhero pose. “Especially since, you know, now that we’re dating.” Jon looked over at Damian somewhat shyly, ears burning red at this, as did part of his face.

Clark’s expression, not hard to begin with, softened. Damian noticed that there were presents now under the tree where there had not been any before. Superman must have been up this early to do the honours himself. Damian appreciated the hokiness of the gesture. He looked almost as excited as Jon, though noticeably more reserved about it.

“This is certainly a special year for all of us. I am really glad that you and your Dad could join us for our festivities, Damian.” he said, sharing in his son’s delight.

Damian felt like Superboy made every holiday, even every day, special just by being himself. They had spent the last few days doing chores together and training, flying around the farm together, spending time with the many creatures on the farmland. They had also spent some time together with the family watching Mister Rogers’ Neighbourhood and various Christmas movies. Lois had made them both hot chocolate at least twice now, and he expected to be drinking more of it tonight.

Superman clapped his hands together, grinning. “Well, we had better go get the chores done so we can spend today relaxing and having fun.”

“Or we could just start the relaxing now!” Lois called from the kitchen, teasing him. The coffee pot simmered.

Clark and Jonathan snickered, all of them knowing that wouldn’t happen. Damian observed all of this with his standard casualty, but on the inside, he was counting every light and calculating how fast Jonathan would have had to work to get this all done in the space of ten or twenty minutes. He cherished Jon so much.

Father and son were already moving towards the door when Jon put out his hand for Damian to take. If he were anyone else, Robin would have blushed.

He took Jon’s hand, happy to be taken outside into the cold air that would inevitably clear his head. They would spend the morning tending to the animals, which Damian adored. Afterwards, he would eat breakfast with the Kents and then run through his minimized trainings for the day, some alone, some with Jon. He had to keep his body and mind sharp, loverboy relationship or not (he was so happy that it was the former and not the latter). They left Lois in the house to tend to their duties.

Jon had been helping him train on his solo activities, sometimes even sitting cross-legged on Damian’s back repeating the word ‘Om’ as Damian did many pushups. The Kents found this especially endearing. The boys liked this just as much as they liked to spar with one another.

While Lois Lane had not exactly grown up to be house-wife of the year, she had discovered a love of cooking living out here on the farm that she had never known while living in the city. Clark was good about bringing in fresh eggs and milk from the animals, so she had taken to learning how to cook all sorts of fun things for her little family. She adored them both, and she had to admit to herself that she had much more time to write and to explore her passions now that they were not in the thick of the hustle and bustle of the city.

For their part, Mr. and Mrs. Kent had done even more than they had previously to make Damian feel at home. They had even let the young couple stay in the basement, clearing out the spare bedroom for them, setting several boxes in the attic so that Jon and Damian could have a bit of space and privacy to themselves. Jon's bedroom remained on the second floor while his parent's bedroom was on the ground floor.

Once the fellas returned to the house, she set out what she had worked on while they worked up an appetite. Breakfast was fatty and delicious, dripping with butter and cream, powdered sugar and syrup. It kept the four of them very satisfied while they went about their activities for the day. Jon had asked that they leave the Christmas lights on all day, so the house glimmered like a disco.

Later in the day, after chores and breakfast and trainings, Clark had asked Jon to go for a walk with him in the woods to gather firewood. When the two were alone, Lois smiled at him.

Her and Damian had often talked before, so they knew things about each other that were important to maintaining their relationship. Lois had always been rather friendly and seemed very curious about his life both before and after coming to Gotham. Damian appreciated her drive to discover, suspecting that he may wind up in a book of hers someday. He had asked her previously how she felt being the one with a secret identity these days. She laughed and told him about her experiences.

Today, however, the conversation had started lightly enough but had inevitably turned towards her son. She told Damian that she loved Jon more than anything in the world, and that she just deeply wanted them both to be happy. He had been expecting warnings of caution and tales of young love gone wrong, but nothing like that came from her. Damian, while not used to the sincerity of the Kents, was very sympathetic. He was used to Jon, of course, but Jon had a playful streak to him, a rebelliousness that would allow him to tease and play with Damian in a way that nobody else ever had. Clark was Superman (enough said), but Lois had an earthier quality to her that the young Robin liked. She was no hero, and she did not pretend to be one. 

She asked him how he felt about Jon, and though poised and calm, Damian could detect her motherly instincts at work.

He thought for a moment, dredging up past inner conflicts and reflecting on the newfound ease with which he and his partner operated.

"I was raised to kill. To be a remorseless tool in the hands of trained killers." He weighed his words carefully, choosing each one for the appropriate affect, remembering the trials and teachings of the assassins he had been raised by. "Everything changed when I met my father, the famous detective took me in and taught me how to be my own person. He taught me to protect those that cannot protect themselves. He taught me that I have to make my own choices in this life, and that each choice that I make has consequences on those that have grown up differently than I have." Lois was listening to his words like every bit of the trained reporter that she was. He appreciated it. The pressure made him feel more comfortable. "Jon taught me how to love. How to be human." He let his statement hang in the air. They searched each other’s eyes.

"I'm in love with your son, Mrs. Kent. I would do anything to make him happy. Even if I had to die to do it." She looked contemplative at his words, sensing a bit of what he had shared with her son over the years. And then she hugged him from the side. Again, Damian was taken aback. He was not used to so much affection from others, even after having spent so much time with the boy of steel.

When Lois pulled away, she had a special sort of light in her eyes. "Jon knows what you've been through. I certainly don't know all of it, but I see how happy you already make him." Damian felt a tug in his heart at her words. "Jonathan loves you, Damian Wayne, and for what it's worth, Clark and I love you, too. You’re both much less of a handful now that you’re older anyway.” She reminded him in that moment of his boyfriend. “You let us know if you need anything, okay? We'll always be here for you."

Damian could see her eyes so sharply. He could smell her perfume. He was aware, in some part of his mind, of every killing stroke that he could perform on her. She was a tough woman, wife of Superman after all, but he could overpower her. As she searched his eyes, feeling him out as she probed in a gentle way, he felt more emotions stirring. It was like a small geyser had been awakened deep inside his chest. He could feel something there growing, wanting to pour out of him. 

It was all because of Jon. Here she was, the mother of his lover, giving them her blessing. Telling him that he mattered. She talked with him like he was a real person who just happened to be brought it up in dire straits.

He searched her eyes back, wanting to say something kind. He searched, sensing the strains of her relationship with Clark. He knew it must have been a rollercoaster for them. The hiding. The lying. The pretending. The very real threats to their persons. He even remembered Jon telling him of at least three times that Lois had been kidnapped, either in her line of work or because of her association with her now husband.

Damian was spared from having to formulate a response by a very cold ball of snow hitting the side of his head. For a fleeting moment, he had almost tackled Lois, intending to protect her with his life in that moment, but then he heard the gaiety and laughter of the one he loved the most in the whole world. Jon had called out to him and then ducked behind a tree.

Lois, who had been visibly surprised, laughed at the heaviness of their conversation and signaled with her eyes that Damian should 'go get him,' even as a smug smile was spreading over his dark and handsome face. She really felt for him. He leapt over the railing of their porch, diving into the snow towards the trees. Jon play screamed and flew off towards another set of trees.

“Get back here, Kent!” She heard Damian yell playfully at Jon, hurling snowballs at him that he dodged with ease. Clark was walking towards her, smiling every bit as warmly as she was back at him.

She thought about her conversation with the young protege of Batman. Those radiant green eyes were so intense. So filled with mystery and dark wonder. Her heart went out to him. He had seen so many ugly things in his short life. Lois guessed that he had seen some very beautiful ones, too. Jonathan was probably one of the few people in the entire world that could really understand what Damian needed from him in order to be happy, in order for him to grow beyond those haunting experiences.

She suspected that Damian knew how she had been examining him over the years. She had seen them grow up together, but what he may not have known behind all of his mystique and glamor of being a super detective was how right she felt like he was for her son. She could have warned them to be careful or bristled about their youth, but she didn't. Nobody had. They were practically made for each other, and she was grateful for how much happier her beloved son had been since he had met Robin. If possible, he seemed even happier now that they were officially seeing each other. Lois guessed rightly from the marks on their necks that they had seen a lot of each other.

Clark wrapped one arm around her, the other carrying a massive load of firewood as easily as she would have carried a feather. “Well, dear? Shall we let the kids have their fun?”

She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “You know it, Mr. Kent. We’ve still got a lot of cooking to do.” She struck her hips against him and saw his eyes sparkle. She loved this being in love with a superhero thing. Jon was right: this was going to be a really special holiday for them all, not just for Damian Wayne.

After an hour or more of intense snowball fighting and chasing, Jon had let himself get ‘cornered’ in a tree. Damian loved hearing the cows and chickens and goats. Something about the smell of those creatures calmed him considerably, and he was grateful to be here with Superboy enjoying a playful day. Something about the smell of his lover stirred his passions.

They spent half an hour or so up in that tree kissing and holding hands, teasing each other and watching the wind sweep quietly across the picturesque farm. The young couple groped one another and tried to get the other one to be more turned on than themselves.

They both really wanted to sneak away for a quickie, but they had resigned not to. After some talking and joking, more chasing and much merriment in the snow, the two retreated inside to have a late light lunch with the Kents. Clark wanted to wait until everyone was there to open presents, but he did let Damian and Jon open one gift from them. The packages ended up being a pair of socks each with their hero emblems on them. Jon made a coy expression and slipped the Robin socks out of Damian’s hand and handed him the Superman socks, making the Kents laugh.

“I thought you might do just that, but I wanted it to be your choice.” Clark beamed at his son. Jon hugged his parents and thanked them both, pulling on the Robin socks over his sockless feet (having ditched his wet ones after they had come in for lunch).

Clark and Lois retreated to the kitchen to sing Christmas carols after some visiting with the boys, enjoying a smaller celebration this year, loving each other’s company as they cooked and shared stories about their anticipated guests. They left Damian and Jon on the couch together. Jon had crawled into Damian’s lap and was resting against the boy with no guard up. No defenses. He just felt safe and loved and warm sitting on top of Damian’s lap. Damian rubbed his arm and leg as the younger boy played the newest Pokemon game that his parents had given him (another gift that his soft father had let him open early).

Damian thought about all of the years of silence about his feelings. This moment was perfect. Jon was perfect. He moved a bit of hair out of Jon’s face and kissed his forehead. Jon made a happy sound and stirred closer to Damian. They talked about comic books and about Pokemon, playfully chastising each other for the tastes in both. They snuggled and chatted for some time before they got quiet, just enjoying the closeness with each other.

Jon fell asleep on top of him for a little while after that. Damian took the time to explore Jon’s meditation techniques, contemplating their relationship over the years, thinking about criminals and assassins, about Kents and Waynes, about the differences in the cold streets of Gotham and of those of Metropolis.

They might have spent their time playing violent video games while they waited for guests to arrive, or they could have wandered the land with the animals, but this was much more pleasant. This felt right. They had played hard during their chores and during their trainings for the day.

Damian found himself rubbing Jon’s back as he slept. A tiny sound of contentment escaped Jon’s lips as he dozed in the older boy’s arms.

Damian eventually found himself rehearsing fighting techniques in his head, planning out new moves and reviewing past failures. He was determined to stay awake, despite the temptation that snuggling with Jon like this presented him with. He had stretched out on the couch at this point, Jon dozing on top of his chest without stirring. Damian admired the certain capacity for ease that occupied Jon’s world.

“Kara’s here!” Jon suddenly exclaimed, opening his eyes widely. Damian was amazed at how quickly Jon dashed to the door and flew out of it. He heard the two of them squealing outside. They must have collided in the air, hugging tightly. He could already hear them babbling outside. He took the time to stretch his arms and back before getting up to close the door just as Kara landed. She was a beautiful young woman with blonde hair and bright blue eyes. She was wearing a white t-shirt and a jean skirt. Jon was smiling widely, hanging over his favourite cousin. They walked through the front door that Damian had been about to shut.

“Ohhhhh, so thiiiis is Damian, eh?” She said, eyeing him up and down. Her eyes hesitated on the marks on his neck. “I can see why you like him.” she teased. Jon pulled his eyelid down on his left eye and stuck his tongue out at her. They both started laughing. Damian felt a bit out of place, but it was honestly something that he was used to.

Once the Kents came out of the kitchen, greetings and hugs were exchanged. Damian excused himself to go change into his formal wear for the event. When he was done, he stole quietly into the kitchen and then to the porch, carrying a hot cup of black chai that he had brewed up quickly in the kitchen. It was imported, and while Damian would not let himself drink black coffee these days like the other bat-mutts, he would allow himself the sheer luxury of velvety black chai.

He sipped it slowly and methodically, watching the clouds in the slowly darkening sky. Jon was busy excitedly showing Kara around the house and around the farm. He watched them as they sparred a bit, Jon showing off all of the things that he had learned with Damian over the years.

He thought about how the night could go. He was still not used to so much positivity. He was the son of Batman, a man whom he was pretty sure was really only wearing a mask when he allowed others to call him Bruce Wayne. He seemed to really be the Batman, through and through. He pondered about this and several other things, trying hard not to think about work or about Jon's soft hands all over his body. The past few days with Jon had been paradise, but he need not prepare himself too much for its inevitable end when the holidays would be over. Life would resume as usual on its own accord.

A short while later, a slick black car pulled up in the driveway. An orange and pink light danced upon the snow in the front yard courtesy of all of the lights that Jon had hung up. Bruce Wayne exited the driver’s seat of the slick sportscar, surveying the Kent’s property solemnly. Damian found his demeanor appropriate and oddly comforting. As grateful as he was for the Kents, he naturally preferred the rugged, calculating sobriety that filled his father’s life. A tall, black-haired man exited the passenger’s seat. He knew that all of the other members of the bat-family were busy with their own holiday plans or busy on patrol in the city, so he was curious to know who had been riding along with his care-giver. The man had long black hair. He was wearing a black t-shirt with a Superman emblem on it along with black jeans and a black leather jacket. He appeared to be wearing several belts of varying colors and styles.

“Hiiii, cousin!” Jon called to the tall man, coming around the corner with Kara in tow. Jon flew at the man suddenly. The man caught him mid-flight and started giving him a noogie, making Jon laugh and plead for mercy. When he had gotten free, he flew behind Damian and shielded himself with Damain’s arm, playing at protecting himself. The man, who had looked so serious just moments before, laughed at Jon’s antics, telling him to 'Wonder Woman up.' Kara laughed with Jon as he stuck his tongue out at the man, laughing.

Bruce and Damian watched the scene with cool detachment. Bruce stooped into the backseat to grab several festive boxes. Damian recognized Alfred’s handiwork immediately. He wondered if Pennyworth was enjoying his annual art gallery explorations. He had decided to go to Paris this year with Barbara Gordon. He silently hoped that they were having a good time. Damian would miss his cooking, as he always did if he was honest with himself.

Lois and Clark appeared and greeted them all out on the porch. After some pleasantries were exchanged, it was Conner's turn to get a tour of the house from Jon. It was Damian’s understanding that Kara and Conner were also spending the night at the Kents.

Everyone spent time visiting with one another. Christmas music played from inside. It was actually quite pleasant. Jon even kissed Damian's cheek in passing, making himself blush, taking Conner inside to show him his bedroom.

Damian had to resist talking about work with his father, so he found himself chatting with Conner about all of his adventures in Hawaii when he had returned from inside. Damian found out that his girlfriend, M’gann, was spending her time in Hawaii with some of the other extraterrestrials from the Justice league, having a celebration of their own sorts.

Time passed pleasantly, and after a while, Clark brought up gifts. Clark’s enthusiasm for the holiday certainly never ceased to give Damian insight into his boyfriend’s behaviour.

Jon and Clark were clearly the most excited in the room as they filed inside, followed in enthusiasm closely by Kara, who had been all over the world recently doing her part to ‘inspire communities,’ as she put it.

The Kents and Bruce Wayne had both carefully selected gifts for the other participants at their little party, but Kara and Conner had also brought a few things along from their travels. Many of the gifts were very heartfelt and quite practical. Books were exchanged. Clothing was given. A few items worthy of super powered crime fighting were also in the mix. It was a nice selection of variety and meaning. It showed that they all valued one another in a way that normal good could not express.

The last gift to be given was a slender black box from Damian’s father simply marked ‘Jonathan.’ Jon was not sure what he was expecting, but he found a brand new, state-of-the-art superhero suit that Bruce had commissioned for him. Clark and Lois expressed their surprise, but Jonathan was clearly excited. He hugged the Dark Knight tightly and wanted to go try it on, but was stopped by his parents. This was ‘family time.’

With that out of the way, the time soon came for dinner, which smelled quite good. They all filed into the kitchen and sat around the table while Clark expressed his gratitude for their being there. Mr. Kent really did have a way with words, and they all toasted his sentiment with various non-alcoholic beverages. Conversation and food ensued.

After a while, the conversation turned towards climate change and villainy.

Damian remembered seeing Kara’s photo on the side of buses with the slogan: “Be a hero. Take the bus.”

"People call us super heroes, Conner. For every megalomaniac creep that fears us, or hates us, or wants us dead, there are five, ten, twenty more people that look up to us. Maybe hundreds. Maybe even thousands.

There are children growing up wanting to be Supergirl, and I for one think that they should have more than punching people to look up to.” Kara spoke in between bites of the meal. They had been talking about her services as of late.

“How long have Clark and Bruce been fighting crime? And new supervillains rise up every day. Because of social problems. Because of our culture. And all the while, our planet gets more and more out of whack. Our collective mental health declines. We have broader horizons to look towards."

"Oh come on, Kara. You know better than that. What we do is important, and some of these people only understand violence." Conner was picking at his food at this point.

"I should know better than that. We should know better than that. We can't just keep going around beating up every threat we encounter. We can't keep pushing our problems onto the justice system and expecting everything to go away. It's more complicated than that. These individuals represent the unrest of much bigger problems in our societies.

I'm not saying that we can make everything better all at once, but I am saying that we have a greater impact on our planet and on our people than we are currently taking responsibility for.

That's why I do the photoshoots that I do. That's why I've been working so hard in South America to preserve land. You'd be amazed at how much we can do when we start advocating and reasoning. Muscles can't fix everything."

Conner kissed his bicep, but nobody seemed to find the gesture funny. Damian and Jon were listening intently to her every word, looking quite considerate.

"Conner got better." Jon said, wiping the smug look off of Conner's face without meaning to. "I know you used to be really different. And look at Dami. He got better." Jon turned to Damian like a bashful sheep, his eyes so full of loving adoration that nobody spoke. Damian felt his face burning and genuinely could not help it. Jon was right. He used to be a trained assassin. Now he was heir to the Batman.

Lois broke the contemplative silence after Jon's words had settled in. Of course she did. She was in this world of caped crusaders but remained just enough outside of it to still have perspective on it.

"Well I think what you're doing is great, Kara. I am terribly excited to find out what you're gonna do next with yourself. You ought to talk with Wonder Woman about some of this. I'm sure she would be thrilled to know what a bright, tough young lady you've grown into." Lois said, pulling the attention off of Conner and Damian. "Anyway, everybody. Who wants dessert? Clark and I worked all day to make these fabulous sweets, and I just can't wait any longer to share them with you!" The weight of the world was often on all of them. Today, they needed a break from all that.

She got up from the table to move to the fridge, pulling out a pie tin and something else covered with tin foil. Damian's father had stood up at the table. Jon held Damian's hand a little tighter. Damian found the gesture quite cute. 

"Not staying for the finishing treat, Bruce? Don't tell me you have work, pal. It's Christmas." Clark said smoothly. The Batman was hard to charm. He brushed it off just as smoothly.

"Since when have you known me to be much for sweets, Kent? Besides, I'm always working." he replied with a smile. It did not quite reach his eyes, but there was much more warmth in it than usual. Clark gave him a knowing look.

Lois came quickly over to him holding a tin towards him.

"I had a feeling you wouldn't stay past the meal, Bruce, but here. I made you and your family some cookies, just for you." She smiled at him warmly. He gingerly looked inside the tin and gave a more genuine smile when he saw that they were in the shape of bats. If he were a more jovial man, he would have laughed.

"Lois, you're too much." he said, smiling. He kissed her cheek softly. "Thank you all for having me over. I'll give everyone your best regards." Everyone said their collective good-bye’s and well-wishes.

"You do just that, Bruce. And have Alfred post his pictures up online, will you? I really love his annual travels. He goes to such interesting places." she continued sweetly.

"We wouldn't be the same without Alfred. I'll pass along the sentiment."

He could be really charming when he wanted to be, but he seemed to relax a little more around his friends. Damian wondered if he called them his friends, just as Damian's friends probably wondered if he thought of them that way. Everyone at the table knew how Bruce was, and they had expected him to leave with the tin, but instead, he hesitated.

"Damian, could I have a moment out on the porch with you? I have a little something to discuss." He smiled, but a smile from the Batman was not the most comforting gesture in the world, charm aside.

Everyone at the table trusted him (maybe that wasn't quite the right word), but they were still curious as to what he could want to talk about. Jon hoped really hard that he hadn't done anything to get Damian into trouble. He had done his best to not be too flirty at the dinner table.

Damian squeezed his hand gently and then took it back to himself, standing up quietly as Lois started serving desserts and conversation resumed. He walked to the porch with his father quietly, again taking comfort in the stony silence that he had come to draw strength from. He had no idea what to expect, but he suspected that it may be work related.

A slight chill bit the air out on the porch, in sharp contrast to the cozy warmth of the small kitchen that had been full of holiday cooking heat all day.

If Damian were somebody else, he may have feared that his father was going to initiate a conversation about his relationship with Jonathan. He was pretty sure that Alfred and the others had filled him in, but they had not discussed the matter personally. He ended up being about half-right in thinking that, but as he was not someone else, he was right in thinking that Bruce Wayne had no interest in chastising him about it. They had grown a sort of unspoken mutual respect over the years. A lot of things went unspoken with both the senior and junior Wayne.

They looked one another in the eye, a deep common understanding between them.

“Damian. Merry Christmas.” his father said.

“Ah. Merry Christmas, father.” he replied, knowing that there was more to this.

Bruce’s expression softened a bit. Damian got the feeling that he was looking for bits of himself in Damian’s life sometimes, but he also knew that the Batman was a more objective person than the average man. He was not possessive of him, and he respected that the two were quite different, though there were similarities and parallels in their lives that they were both aware of. 

“Clark told me about your new relationship. I’m happy for you.” he started.

“Thank you, father.” Damian replied moderately, feeling out the situation.

“I mean I’m really happy for you, son.” Bruce laid a hand on his shoulder. “Clark is a good friend of mine, and I more or less trust his judgement.” A huge compliment coming from him. “If nothing else, I know that he’s been a good father. I’ve seen how close you and Jon have gotten over the years." Silence hung in the air. "I was honestly waiting to see if you would do anything about it, and you did. I’m proud of you for it.”

The weight of those words resonated in Damian’s mind. This must be the day for emotional insights by means of others. He wanted to brace himself, but that part of himself that Jon had nurtured over the years told him that he should let himself be open to this. He needed it.

Bruce let his hand drop away. “I’ve spent my life isolated from others. It’s no secret. I don’t regret what I’ve done, and I don’t apologize for it.

I have done what I can to prepare the next generation for what they’re going to face. I don’t feel like I’ve done it all alone, because I haven’t. There have always been others there to help. People like Alfred and Dick. And people like Clark.”

Damian was listening more intently to this than he had to anything all day. This was a serious moment, and he was quietly afraid to break it. He wondered casually if his father was dying.

“I never made much of a place in my life for romance. There’s too much room for error.” He went quiet for a moment and then looked at Damian with renewed vigor. “I’ve thought a lot about it, and I’m happy to see that you’re brave enough to make room for it. I think Jonathan’s good for you.”

Damian felt as dumbstruck as he ever had. He knew that his father wasn’t a monster, but tender moments like this were more of the caliber of the Kents. Maybe they had spiked his drink. Or more likely Superman had said something to him about it. Damian suspected the latter.

“I’m not telling you all of this out of selfish motivations or because I’m in any danger. You’re growing into something much more than you ever thought possible, and I know that Jonathan has been a big part of that.”

“Father…” was all Damian could trust himself to say. He had truly not been expecting this from the stoic crime fighter.

“I’m not getting any younger, son. You have your own choices to make, and I’ll do what I can to be supportive. That’s why I got you this.” He reached into his inner suit pocket and pulled out a thin, very official-looking envelope.

He handed it to Damian. He looked at his father, at the man that had kept Gotham City from decaying into the cesspool that it must have longed for decades to become. When Damian didn’t say anything, Bruce went on.

“It’s the rights to a nature preserve down in South America. I purchased a swathe of the Amazon Rainforest there along with several indigenous villages and the surrounding areas. They’re calling a part of it the Damian Wayne Nature Preserve.”

Damian’s heart started beating a little faster in his chest. This was not appropriate for a ninja, but he could not stop it all the same. Even if he could, he found that he didn’t want to.

He tore open the envelope and started speed-reading some of its contents. There were goat farms, mud huts, plots of the Rainforest that would be preserved and protected. There were protections from poachers and even from research into certain areas. Some of the land was now officially barred from human interference. He read through lists of animals and names of local tribes. He noted coordinates that seemed to encompass some large areas.

“Kara is going there next month to start some of the preparations for some of the more robust protections, but it’s all in your name. I have some rights to it all, but you have the final say in what happens with this.

You have such a heart for animals. I may as well not fight it.”

Damian looked up at the man that the darkest of villains feared, and he felt that same trembling inside that he had felt when speaking with Lois Lane, only now it was different. This was tinged by a deep respect that Damian could not shake or overcome.

Before he even knew what he was doing, he had flung himself forward into Bruce’s arms and was hugging him as tightly as he could. It was lucky that he was Batman or Damian might have hurt him.

He found that there were tears in his eyes. His voice was weak. He almost wanted to ask why he would do that for him.

“I- I don’t know that to say, Father… Thank you.” He looked up at the stoic figure and saw the smallest tears in his eyes. Bruce was hugging him back.

“Make the right choices with your life. That’s all I ask.” Bruce replied. The cold night suddenly seemed much warmer. Damian suddenly became aware that there were still conversations going on inside. Somewhere inside was his boyfriend, drunk on Christmas cheer. Out here on the porch was one of the toughest people in the world basically telling Damian Wayne that he was proud of him. Damian wiped his eyes and straightened up, wanting to recover from the moment.

“I will do my best. With all of this.” They both understood what he meant. He was talking about his new relationship with Jonathan. He was talking about Gotham and being a crime fighter. He was talking about his life, and now, about this nature preserve. Bruce wiped a tear from his son's cheek, a maddeningly sobering thing of him to do. The tears that had been in his eyes a moment before were gone now. If he had been in costume, Damian mused, he would have simply vanished without a word.

“Don’t keep your boyfriend waiting. I’ll be around.” He turned to leave.

“Merry Christmas, dad!” Damian called after him, holding up the envelope.

Bruce turned, just about to enter the sleek black sports car that he had arrived in.

“Merry Christmas, son.” he said with a smile before disappearing inside. The motor started up seamlessly. The headlights kicked on, and before Damian could even process what had just happened, the car was backing up and then driving forward off of the property into the night. 

The porch was bathed in the christmas lights shining forth out of every window in the house.

“Dami, are you alright?” were the next words that Damian heard, spoken by his boyfriend, who had come to check up on him after such an absence. It all felt like a moment to the young Wayne, who smiled at Jon and beckoned him over. Jon looked back into the house before closing the door and going over to him. He was grabbed in a tight display of affection and kissed. Jon was elated. The two stayed in one another’s embrace while Damian explained what his father had done. Jon was super excited for him. He grabbed the older boy around the middle and spun them around a foot above the porch.

They decided to go back inside at last.

Kara was waiting for him at the kitchen table when he got back in. She took Damian’s hands and squealed, making Damian laugh. He squealed back at her in like manner, making the group laugh.

“We heard about what your dad did from Kara. Words probably aren’t enough to express what you’re feeling. That was truly a tremendous thing that Bruce has done.” Clark said, beaming. Conner offered his congratulations. Damian resisted the urge to play it cool and told them all that he really had appreciated his Christmas here. He seemed suddenly fairly relaxed for the young man usually wandering around dark alleys dressed as Robin.

After dessert was concluded, the youngest of their group went out into the living room to stretch and to get some air, so the rest of the youngest followed. Kara and Damian fell into talk about vegetarianism and animal ethics after that. They talked somewhat about their plans for the Preserve. Jon laid against him and kept up a conversation with Conner for a bit while the Kents cleaned the kitchen up. Conner wanted to speak with them eventually, leaving Jon to rest against Damian. He played his Pokemon game for a little while and eventually headed to bed, leaving Damian and Kara to chat. They touched briefly on the subject of Robin and Superboy dating, and Damian found himself grateful for someone to share his feelings for Jon with.

When she felt satisfied of his intentions, Kara excused herself to go be with the Kents in the kitchen. They were just about to start a card game and had called to see if the two of them wanted in on it. Damian declined. He wanted to go lay in bed with Jon. Wanted to feel his skin and smell his hair.

He moved silently to the basement. Some things never changed, and his ninja-like prowess for silence seemed to be one of those things.

Upon entering the basement, he saw a pinkish-orange glow coming from behind the large white door at the end of the room. Jonathan must have decorated their room with Christmas lights, too. He smiled to himself, looking forward to the quiet and welcome warmth of his partner. As interesting as Kara’s conversation had been, and as elated as he was about the gift from his Father, socializing always seemed to take it out of him.

He thought about his conversation with Lois earlier. He was still noticeably (at least to himself and Jon) touched. He could hear the card game starting upstairs and mused to himself about a bunch of superheroes playing a game of Uno or Go Fish.

He grabbed the cool brass doorknob, turning it in his hand slowly so as not to wake Jon. He was surprised, however, to discover the sight before him: Jon was in bed, naked, penis erect, wrapped in various ribbons. He was, of course, smiling. Damian quickly stepped through the door and closed it softly behind him, suddenly much, much less tired than he had been thirty seconds before.

“Merry Christmas, Damian Wayne. I snuck down here to wrap your real Christmas gift. Sorry if it’s a little late.” Jon was smiling with a sincere and innocent eagerness that Damian had always admired. He was so handsome, his silky black hair spilling over his face, ribbons criss-crossing all over his person, tied in neat little bows. Damian especially noticed the nice red ribbon tied around his powerfully erect cock.

Up until that night at the Kent’s, they had been limiting themselves to kissing and groping without really getting off, despite the many hickeys and the time yesterday in which Damian and Jon had fingered each other until they had to stop for fear of noise and the smell of sex. It was clear to both of them that tonight was going to be different.

Damian was thinking about how much his lover had matured over the years. Jon must have been practicing controlling his heartbeat for Damian not to have been aware that he was awake. He would have thought that Jon had been asleep on the other side of the door before he had opened it. After several long moments in which Damian’s member grew by at least an inch, Jon spoke up.

“Hey, lover. Aren’t you going to come unwrap your present?” He sort of half-whispered to his partner. Damian had a wild idea flash through his mind, elated as he was by this whole experience at the Kent’s, and proceeded to smile and wiggle his shoulders. They’d heard this song earlier that day.

“Sleigh bells ring. Are you listening?” He started singing softly to his super-hearing boyfriend, wiggling his hips. “In the lane, snow is glistening.” He started waggling his eyebrows, reaching up very slowly and pointedly to start undoing his tie. Jon, clearly delighted, laid back, still with one leg drawn in and one leg extended, sporting a healthy boner, jaw resting on one of his curled fists. He waggled his eyebrows back. They were so good together.

Damian threw his tie onto Jonathan’s head. Jon pulled it down and held it in his hand, smelling it and flashing his eyelashes at his lover. They both giggled.

“A beautiful sight, We’re happy tonight. Walking in a winter wonderland.” he sang, spinning on the spot before facing away from Jon, wiggling his butt, undoing buttons on his vest. Jon had started blushing. Damian was committed at this point, so he kept it up, growing harder as he sang, wanting to kiss Jon’s pretty face.

He pulled his vest half-way down and looked back over at Jon before turning around and dropping it on the floor. He started undoing buttons on his silky black shirt.

“Gone away is the bluebird.” Another button undone. Another button undone. He and Jon were both watching each other with growing anticipation, their focus on one another quite heightened. 

“Here to stay is the new bird.” Damian finished the last button and let his shirt fall away, running his fingers up his abs and chest for Jon’s amusement. Jon made a licking gesture in the air. Their dicks twitched, both of them blushing at this point. He undid the catch on his trousers. “He sings a love song.” He rubbed his obviously hard cock through his slacks. Jon snapped his teeth playfully, grinning wildly but still so mature and controlled. “As we go along. Walking in a winter wonderland.” Down came the zipper on his pants, and they fell away to let his erect member show off inside of the silky black jock strap that Jon had come to sincerely love.

Damian looked so sexy in that jockstrap and black socks as he stepped out of his pants.

Jon was getting pretty worked up. He sprawled out on the bed on his belly, hiding his erection from the disappointed Damian, resting his jaw on his hands to continue to watch Damian with boyish enthusiasm. Rays of his youthful passion shone through his determined hero attitude like rays of moonlight breaking through the clouds in Gotham. 

Damian turned around to bend over, taking off his socks slowly, giving Jon quite a view of his hole and backside. He looked over his shoulder at Jon, who had been shamelessly gawking at his rear end. “Later on, we’ll conspire.” One sock off. “As we dream by the fire.” Both socks off. He stepped back slowly, still facing away, wiggling and making quite the show for Jon, who reached his arms out and started rubbing his butt and then up his back. Damian kept moving backwards, Jon getting up on his knees to start kissing some of the small scars on Damian’s shoulders.

“To face unafraid. The plans that we’ve made.” Jonathan sang into Damian’s ear, running his hands over Damian’s abs and chest before lowering them to grope Damian’s package. Damian had planned on taking the jockstrap off, but Jon clearly wanted him to keep it on. He could feel Jon’s bowtied erection pressing against him from behind. His heart melted and he let out a low, soft moan. Jon ground his hips against Damian, making him shiver before turning in the boy’s arms to face him.

“Walking in a winter wonderland.” he managed to sing softly before they began to kiss. They both caressed slowly, kissing repeatedly and deeply, pressing their tongues into each other’s soft mouths, filling the room with the slow, sexy sounds of their desires. Jon was rubbing Damian’s butt, slipping his hands inside the straps of his jockstrap, his erection pressed against Damian’s. Damian, for his part, brought his hands up to rub Jon’s shoulders, feeling the ribbons there, before bringing them up to caress his face and neck while they kissed. Jon pulled his hips close to grind their erections together.

“You’re just what I wanted.” he whispered to Jon earnestly. Jon breathed out audibly, looking at Damian. “Best gift ever.” He melted against the young Superboy.

“You’re so important to me. I wanted this to be really special for you.” he said, running the tips of his fingers over Damian’s many scars, both front and back. He seemed to want to heal Damian from the inside out when he did that, and it touched Damian so deeply that he had dreamed about Superboy caressing his scars, erasing them from his body as he did so.

Damian rested his knees on the bed, straddling Jon, who untucked his legs and sat on the edge of the bed, continuing to run his hands over Damian’s smooth brown skin. Damian let himself moan softly in his lover’s lap. They were keeping quiet even though they knew that they could be heard if those upstairs were intent upon hearing them, which they were not. He suddenly felt so safe, as he often did in Jon’s arms, letting this knowledge and the last few days (especially today) wash over him. If he had to guess, this must be what it felt like to be truly loved. He was so grateful for it.

“You always make me feel special, Jon.” He ran his fingers through his lover’s hair before untying a bow around Jon’s left shoulder. “I am sorry that I didn’t tell you sooner.” he said, feeling uncharacteristically emotional. This had all been so wonderful. He really meant what he had just said, and Jon knew it.

Superboy pulled Damian easily to the side, ending up on top of him looking down at him with those beautiful sapphire eyes. They were reflecting the many strings of lights that Jon must have just hung up after he had decided to ‘go to bed.’

They both felt flushed, their heat having nothing to do with the temperature of the room. They both sensed something much larger blooming between them, and they wanted to do their best to nurture it. Jon, ever the more sentimental of the two, was well aware of the turmoil that could come with superheroes dating, but he also knew because of his parents that real love strengthened both people. He probably could not have expressed this if pressed to do so, but he felt it, and that was important.

“Hey,” Jon said tenderly, pressed so close to Damian, “I’m here for you, whatever that means.” He kissed Damian softly and then started kissing his face. Damian moaned, considering what Jon was saying. Outside, it had started to snow again.

He pushed Jon back slightly to pull on a bow around his chest, untying it and letting it drop. He grabbed another ribbon around Jon’s neck and pulled, untying the bow and letting it fall. Then he pulled Jon closer and stuck his tongue in his ear, licking at and around it. Jonathan moaned.

Jon was straddling him, so he pushed his raging erection against Jon’s rump. He gripped the bow around Jon’s cock and stroked his shaft, making the younger boy moan. They started kissing and groping while Damian undid more bows, the bed filling with red ribbons and green.

Damian’s jockstrap front had been pulled aside, and Jon started to stroke his enlarged cock, pulling his foreskin down and then up over the head, down and then up over the head, making Damian moan softly and leak precum. They continued on like this for several minutes, rubbing their skin and limbs against one another.

At one point, Jon moved up higher on Damian's chest to give the older male access to his dick. Damian smiled up at him coyly and undid the bow before taking the hint and planting a kiss on his head. He licked up a bead of pre and started sucking Jon off, undoing more bows as he worked his methodical magic, rubbing up and down Jon's torso and legs as he pleased. He paused occasionally to lick his balls. Jon stroked his face and his hair while Robin moved his head slowly.

Damian had begun to rub Jon's butt, but Jon wanted his cock. He scooted down enough to plant kisses and licks all along his partner's body, inching closer to his erection. When he got there, he gave Damian's balls a tongue bath before proceeding to suck him off. 

Jon's sucking was lighter and softer, but no less devoid of emotion. He licked and kissed, bobbing his head while raking his fingers over his partner's body. Damian found himself very worked up. Superboy snaked a finger that he had sucked to get wet inside his partner, massaging his hole intimately. While he kept sucking, he added another finger, making Damian pant. He knew just where to rub to get Robin super needy. He swallowed around his length, relishing the flavor, making his own dick twitch and drip.

Damian continued to pant and grip Jon’s head. He finally decided that he needed more.

“I want you. Take me, Jon.” Damian blurted out, head spinning from the sensations and emotions that he usually had so much control over. “Please” He pulled Jon up by his jaw and then closer by a ribbon around his middle and kissed him hard, sticking his tongue into the younger boy’s mouth. They had been through more together than many people ever did in this life. It showed in their moments together like this. All of the close calls and the hard nights were resolved in their exploring one another like this.

Jon broke their kiss and pulled a bottle of lube out from under his pillow. “Yes, sir. I’m all yours.” he whispered, opening the bottle to smear a generous amount of the silky fluid over his own hard dick. Damian moaned his name passionately, loving when Jon took charge like that. It was the closest thing to begging that Jon had ever heard from him, and they had been in some very serious situations together. Jon's cock stiffened even more, leaking a bit. He looked down maddeningly softly at him, pecking his lips again gently.

Jon, slicked up now from the lube, closed the bottle and pulled Damian close to him by the hips, the older boy raising his legs to rest them on Jon’s shoulders. Jon smiled and took several moments to look at his dearest friend before lining his member up with his hole and plunging into Damian’s depths gently.

Feeling Jon pulling him open felt so amazing and natural. Damian breathed a sigh of relief and pulled him close while he adjusted to the welcome intrusion, Superboy inching in with great care. Jon sucked on and up his neck, making him moan quietly.

They made love tenderly and passionately, taking their time. Their pace ebbed and flowed like the waves of a great ocean. Damian came all over himself after some time, tightening around the hard cock inside of him. Jon licked up some of his cum as they groped and rubbed and whispered sweet things to one another. This whole experience was their little ritual together, as if all of the things that had been unsaid over the years just came naturally spilling out from their hearts while they were having sex with one another. They both cherished it.

Jon, for his part, had rehearsed some of the things that he wanted to say to his partner in his head the days before, saving them up for their intimate time together like this. They were vulnerable towards each other in a way that they never had been towards any other living soul, in any situation. Jon thrust for a minute or two more and came inside Damian, both of them reeling with joy, being too revved up now to stop.

Damian ended up on top of Jon, riding his cock and grinding his ass into his lover to his heart’s content, Jon holding his hips and rubbing the space where his legs connected to his hips by his groin, which Damian loved. They rubbed each other’s chests and nipples as Jon brought some of his cum to his mouth, licking it up from his fingers. The sight was so hot that Damian’s cock bulged. He loved this sexy, confident side to the young hero.

They both did their best to be quiet, and much later, they let each other know that they were about to cum again. Whatever happened earlier had seemed to be a warm-up. When Jon finally came inside of him again, Damian felt much more of it than in the first orgasm. His insides heated up as he felt his lover spray inside of him. 

Their toes curled, their hearts raced, and they truly belonged to one another in that moment, silent, secret things stitched together in time between them.

Damian had painted Jon’s chest white this time, squirting most of his shots into the younger one’s open mouth. Jon licked his lips seductively but looked much more loving than rugged as he had intended.

Damian lurched forward slowly on Jon, keeping his stiff dick inside of himself, and kissed his face. They kissed and rubbed while coming down from their orgasmic high, semen slipping between them. The smell of them filled the room.

As they relaxed into one another and began to cuddle, Damian curled up on Jon’s shoulder, Jon playing with Damian’s hair and holding him while looking up at the bright ceiling, their legs entwined. They both found themselves thinking about what they had received this Christmas and how truly different their lives were going to be now.

“I’m never going to forget this, Dami. Thank you so much for sharing this with me. For letting me be with you like this.” He tightened his hold around the green-eyed boy.

They kissed softly. “I love you, Jon. I will always be here for you. Always.”

Damian rested his head against his chest and listened to his half-kryptonian heartbeat as they drifted off to sleep together, the house now still and content, Christmas lights still shining over the lover’s heads.


	4. Sanctuaries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Jon gets to meet Steve Irwin and his family while Damian is later called upon to explore the causes of the fires in South America and the Amazon. Enjoy~

It was, in Jon's humble opinion, a great day for a field trip. The snow had stopped for a few days, and though there was a slight chill in the air, it was nothing that a good, warm jacket could not protect against.

Days like today felt refreshing. They felt liberating. He took great comfort in the fact that his father and others were out there doing what they could to make the planet a safer place for people without powers. He saluted a police officer on the way past one and giggled, a free, delightful sound that always warmed the hearts of his classmates. He had grown so much, but he certainly had retained his playful nature. Yes, it was a great day for a field trip.

The time after the Holidays had been hectic, but manageable. Two kidnappings, three robberies, and one superflu breakout rampant in Gotham later, and Jonathan Kent was just happy to just be a regular kid for a day. Sure, classrooms were not his strong suit (thought his studies had been noticeably improving lately), but he was sunny and chipper (or so he was told), and people usually liked his being around. Besides, they were not spending any time in the classroom today, so he could soak up some sun and move around like he loved to do. He spent the ride on the electric bus talking with Meiling and Francisco, two of his good friends at school.

Meiling had developed quite a crush on him, and part of her Western New Year's resolution had been to tell him about her feelings and to ask him out on a date. Jon had been very forthcoming and had told her that he was dating someone, the slightest blush in his cheeks when he told her.

When she pressed him about he, he told her that it was a boy who did not go to their school. She had spent the last weeks giving him a special smile and look that playfully teased him about his new attachment. Really, it was not a new attachment, and that thought alone was enough to make him smile back at her in a way that made her giggle. They were still good friends, and she was actually pleased to find out that he was into boys. Now they could talk about them together.

When he was younger, it had often really bothered Jon to have to tone down the use of his powers around other people, especially around his friends, but as time had gone on, he had adjusted to 'living like a mortal,' as Diane would put it. Sharing his sexuality with his developing classmate was one of those little cherished things that helped him to feel accepted and a part of their lives, though he still sometimes felt guilty about hiding all of who he truly was.

On the bus ride to the Metropolis Wildlife and Ecological Sanctuary, as enthusiastic chatter surrounded him, he was just grateful to have people to be around who were not shooting laser beams at him or trying to hurt anybody. He enjoyed the raucous laughter and lively conversation of his peers. He wondered how Damian’s father felt being around people without super powers. Heck, even his father seemed to view some sort of separation among them, however subtle, but Jonathan really did his best not to.

Meiling, who was happily chatting away, was a pretty girl with her hair usually up in two buns. She discussed a recent assignment with Francisco, a lanky, darker boy with short black hair and deep, considerate brown eyes. They joked and laughed and talked about recent television programs that they had watched. Jonathan had found that he had been watching less television over the years. Despite his earlier disinterest in his own education, he found himself reading lately about the Buddha. He had even picked up a book by Thich Nhat Hahn, which he really enjoyed. Mr. Hahn had a way of speaking that was really calming and welcoming. He seemed so considerate and kind. Jon admired him for his careful pacing and ease with which he spoke in public about his private practices. He interjected into their conversation about him, and they began talking about other prominent social figures that they had been studying in class.

Jon relaxed even more than usual. He had spent at least part of the bus ride focused on his own breathing, feeling his breath enter his body and then leave it again. He could feel the vibrations of his heart even amidst the vibration of the bus that they were riding. His super hearing allowed him to hear dogs and birds in the scenery around them as they travelled onwards. He found himself wondering about the lives of the people they were passing, some of whom were grouchy or disoriented, but most of whom were in decent enough spirits, going about their lives as usual.

He found himself stretching out his sense of smell, breathing in the scent of at least 25 students his age (and several teacher chaperones) each wearing various perfumes and smelling of different soaps and conditioners. The bus smelled of clean metal and a particular fabric.

Somewhere along the way, he found the vibration of the bus was giving him a small boner. He could hear that he was not the only boy on board experiencing this phenomenon, and he found himself imagining the smell of Damian's hair. He could practically smell his lover. His excitement increased, so he focused back on his breathing. Thich Nhat Hahn often described his heart as a melodious little instrument. He listened to his own melody and revelled in his letting go of his thoughts.

Buddhists seemed to talk a lot about living in the moment, but he found that Damian was always really with him in the moment, regardless of whether he was around or not. Memories had a way of being present in the moment, a little gift from past event.

His older lover had been off to visit the Preserve in South America, but would return home over the weekend. Things seemed a little warmer at the Wayne estate these days, and Damian was honestly quite eager to visit with the wildlife down south. Jon was really excited for him.

He returned his attention to his breathing, participating in the conversation at hand, easing the tension in his body again (not that there was much tension in his body ever). He enjoyed the feeling of the sunshine against his skin. He listened to the noises of conversation from other vehicles and people on the road (more and more these vehicles were busses or self-driving cars).

He moved his hips ever so slightly, pushing the underwear that he had borrowed from Damian against his skin. The thought of wearing his boyfriend’s underwear excited him. Damian had borrowed his hoodie more than once. Jon had noticed him smelling it when he did. These thoughts warmed his heart. His erection did not subside.

Despite this, he began to really notice the breathing of those around him just as they were arriving at the sanctuary. So often in his school, simple sensations like the sunlight against skin were often overlooked. As much as he really liked his teachers and his classmates, he certainly was coming to realize that certain aspects of the Wayne’s dedication to learning and certain disciplines were quite adequate for growth. Now that he had been reading Buddhist literature, he was also finding that it was so important to appreciate the often overlooked sensations.

His friends were certainly enjoying his pointing out of scenery that they would have otherwise overlooked. To them, he seemed to have a way of being aware of things even at a distance. They admired him for it.

As they got closer to their destination, they all found themselves getting more excited. Jon was the first to spot the sanctuary off in the distance, a glimmering white span of structures reaching upwards into the sky, as much of Metropolis was these days.

What a great place it was! It was huge and designed in such a way that a lot of it had no ceiling or roof in the open parts of it and yet it remained warm and humid in much of the ‘enclosure.’ Tall white marble walls gave way to meshes of netting and metal weaving housing miles of creatures and plants. Superboy (super suit worn carefully under his current civilian attire) found himself overcome with excitement for the beauty of the place around him. He gazed through walls and through spectators to take in a full view of the compound in all of its glory.

He stretched out his hearing to take in all of the laughter and cooing, the calling and purring, and the cawing and whooping. He stood there appreciating the life of the place. It was sort of like the farm, only larger and busier. Meiling was smiling at him, no doubt admiring him for his quiet joy. He wondered what sorts of animals Damian was getting to be around in South America.

He straightened his fake glasses and focused on his breathing, getting back into the mode of being playful Jon. He breathed in some of the many interesting smells that were wafting his way from the inner sanctuary.

Several of his other friends had gathered around him, and they were chattering away excitedly, looking around the place taking in as much as they could of it. 

Jon smiled. This was going to be a very welcome experience. Hopefully no spoil-sport villains rained on their parade.

~~~~~

"Oh, look at that!" Meiling exclaimed, pointing up to a wicker-work of metal netting and bars that extended several stories into the air, enshrining a sort of clearing filled with exotic trees and plant species. What Meiling was pointing at, however, were the myriads of birds flying around the trees and resting among them, making various calls and songs to one another. He had certainly noticed this part of the compound earlier in his x-ray explorations of the grounds, but now he could safely express his excitement with his friends. Truthfully, he would have loved to fly up into the air and dance around the sky with those wonderful birds, but he stayed on the ground, appreciating their beauty and color from a distance like his peers, though he had a much richer experience because of his super senses.

A place such as this, in other circumstances, would have made Jon very sad for the creatures within, but this truly was a blessing to their lives. He could see that in the way that they behaved. They were happy here, and that made Superboy happy. He had seen enough of the twisted emotions that could lead to such suffering on the earth, and he was quite pleased to see none of those hurt, tight, dark emotions here.

He breathed in the smell of humidity and plantlife as they moved under the birds. The place was so marvelously green, most of the marble walls and structures obscured by vegetation.

They had moved along the grounds, not yet entering the towering glass structures and buildings that were included in the sanctuary, each of which housed many floors of creatures and classes on conservationism. They had been informed that they were going to be greeted by the Irwin family shortly.

~~~~~

Robert Irwin was a charming young man dressed in light khaki clothing and a warm, exuberant smile. He set the tarantula onto a nearby tree and continued to address the crowd about conservation. “So many insects are in danger of not existing anymore. Wouldn’t it be truly sad if wonderful grasshoppers and creatures like this spider were wiped away? I would really miss my friends.”

They were all much deeper into the sanctuary now and had come upon swathes of marshland within the enclosures.

Just then, a large alligator had swam up near the shore by where Robert was addressing them all, drawn there by the sound of their voices. The young conservationist expressed his joy and moved over to the water to talk about his friend with the group. 

“This here is Precious. She’s a wonderful pal of mine.” He crouched low by the gator to talk with her and them. The gator seemed to be smiling.

He was a natural. Robert seemed quite knowledgeable and buoyant. Meiling expressed that she found him quite cute. Jon agreed with her silently, though nobody had the deep, rich inner life that his Damian had. He smiled. His Damian. He had missed a bit of what Robert had just said, so he tuned back in.

"So you see, they're just like all of us. They have their own habits and feelings. Precious here loves apples, but she won't touch carrots." Robert continued, smiling. He held out an apple for the massive gator and let it drop into her mouth as she lunged gently upwards for it.

One girl play-screamed. Many other people cheered or giggled. Robert laughed at this. "Oh, it's alright. I've known Precious here most of my life. She wouldn't hurt anybody." He tossed an apple into the pond next to him. They all watched as she slinked away into the water after it.

The young man, not even as old as Damian, had a playful, genuine nature. He talked to the group about equality for all life and for protection for his friends. His words were quite inspiring. His sister Bindi joined him after a while, and they continued to take the group on a tour towards the rear of the compound, showing them chimpanzees and orangutans, field mice and dragonflies, rabbits and quails, some of whom wandered around the park quite freely and cheerfully. It was a lovely place to be.

~~~~~~

Near the back of the compound, they gathered for a sort of speech from the park’s most highly honored guest.

Here was the famous wildlife warrior that his teachers had been talking about so eagerly.

He clapped with the crowd as Steve Irwin and his wife took a small concrete stage by several pools. He was listening for danger, really enjoying the sounds that a hippopotamus was making somewhere behind him. It was making a small family there laugh in delight perhaps 200 ft away.

He was wearing khaki shorts and a khaki shirt just like Robert. His blonde hair moved gently about his head. Jon thought that his outfit looked a bit like a costume that one of his super friends would wear, and this thought brought joy to his heart.

Mr. Irwin had apparently had several near-death experiences over the years. He didn't look fazed by it, nor did his wife, Terri. She had her hair up in a ponytail, and she was smiling, waving to the crowd.

Jon looked inside the man’s shirt and saw the ugly scar that had nearly taken his life. It was a gnarled patch of flesh right below his heart. The shot from the Stingray had punctured his lung, but it seemed that nothing could have punctured his passion for preserving wildlife. Superboy thought that he had found an emotional comrade. They both seemed to radiate the better side of life. He made a mental note to look into interviews with the man.

He looked through Mr. Irwin and saw the scars both inside of him and on his back. Something like that could have really killed him. Upon examination, Jon saw several more scars all over his body. He stopped examining him when he signalled for the crowd to quiet down.

He greeted the crowd and really wasted no time getting into the thick of it.

“This world is changing, and we have got to be a part of that change.” he spoke, quite sober despite practically bouncing on his heels a moment ago.

“These beautiful animals that you see here in the Metropolis Wildlife and Ecological Sanctuary need you to care about them. Their world is shrinking, and that’s not what we want for them.” His accent was pronounced, but his words were deep and light. Jon found himself straightening up listening to him. He wanted to show his respect.

“All over the world, animal friends like these here are losing their homes, so we need to get involved. We’ve gotta be right in there.” He gestured to show his intention. “We have to be right fair smack in the action. The day has come for you, the audience, to come with me to be here with these animals.” The words sent shivers down Superboy’s spine. He sure understood being in the middle of the action, probably better than a lot of the people in the audience listening.

He wondered at how they could all do their part to help.

“We’re here today to get you excited about our planet. So let’s be excited!” He gestured again and the crowd cheered. An alligator in a nearby enclosure flipped through the water, also looking as if it were smiling.

“If we can touch people about wildlife, then they’ll want to save it. I believe that the time has come where if we don’t get animals into people’s hearts, they’re going to go extinct. We’re running out of time right now.” He let the gravity of what he was saying sink in, but he still had such a positive demeanor.

“Gone are the days of sittin’ behind the long lens on the tripod and lookin’ at wildlife waaaay over there. Uh-uh.” He shook his blonde-haired head for affect, passion pouring from him. “Come with me. Share it with me. Share my wildlife with me. Because humans want to save things that they love. And what’s not to love about animals?” An attentive silence had fallen over the group.

“My job, my mission, the reason that I’ve been put onto this planet in this life is to save wildlife. So come with me. Yeah, let’s save some wildlife! Yeah!” He cheered, his beautiful wife clapping and rolling her fist in the air, goading the children and adults watching to shout and cheer. Jon saw several of his teachers with beaming expressions on their faces, looking upon the stage at Steve Irwin and his family with obvious admiration. Their children had joined them during his speech.

Superboy fully understood why his teachers had wanted his class to see Mr. Irwin and his family speak. They were compassionate. They were energetic. Most importantly, they were spreading a message that related to everybody, no matter the species.

He felt blessed to be able to share the planet with people like the Irwins. Not every superhero wore a cape.

~~~~~

The group decided to have lunch after that. There was a lovely diner on the third floor of one of the buildings that was home to many different species of trees and many different species of smaller mammals and bears. He even got to meet one of the bears, impressing their tour guides with his boldness and gentleness in approaching the creatures. Little did they know how little Jon had to fear from them. They probably all had little to fear from them. These bears in particular were especially friendly and very playful.

It was amazing what a positive and safe environment had been cultivated for their species and all the others at the Wildlife Sanctuary.

When all of the activities had concluded for the day, Jon made a mental note to fly back over it some time. He wanted to share the skies with the beautiful birds that he had seen that day, and he hoped to be able to see Mr. Irwin again. He still felt so inspired from hearing him talk.

They had been joined for part of the tour by the family, and he was deeply glad that he had gotten to spend the day with the Irwins. They were wonderful people.

* * * * * * *

Damian had heard about the fires shortly before arranging his flight. The rumors were that local farmers and drug cartel had been setting fires to the Amazon because of Wayne’s recent acquiring of protections on the land. There were other rumors about government espionage and attacks by cattle farmers on the newly protected lands. 

The smoke from these fires could be seen from space.

His father had hired trained detectives and guardian personnel, but they would be no match for Nightwing and Robin investigating the matter. Superman had been able to stop some of the blazes with his ice breath, but he had been called away on a mission to space.

Damian checked himself mentally, analyzing his thoughts thoroughly. Nightwing was already down south investigating. So far, he had uncovered evidence that the people involved with the LexCorp robbery were sneaking around the Amazon, too. The whole thing made Damian’s skin crawl. Jon had spent the previous day soothing him and trying to get him to meditate, but Damian was honestly quite overcome with hostility. He was grateful that he was older now, and more experienced with these sorts of things, but the fires that were laying waste to animal friends he had never had the opportunity to meet seemed to burn in his chest just as much as anywhere else.

He and his lover had cried together, that alone convincing Jon to ask to spend the night at Wayne manor before the flight. He had barely been back in Gotham for two weeks when news of the fires reached the public’s attention. He had really been looking forward to spending some quality time with Jon, relaying to him even more details of all of his adventures in South America, but their most recent meeting had seemed to take a different tone: one of consolation and grief. Damian was finding it hard not to take these attacks personally, especially with his father’s Christmas words resonating in his mind.

“We’ll get through this. We always do.” Jon had told him by candlelight, holding his lover in his arms after a stint of quiet, passionate love-making. Damian’s body was still sore from the belaboured pace at which Jon had chosen to take him. They had made love twice, and Damian was grateful for Jon’s strength in those quiet, heart-felt moments. He would need those memories to keep his emotions in check for the next week. 

His anus ached from taking Jon twice like that, and he loved that it did. It was a good reminder of their love to him. He thought more about what lay ahead.

Kara had been devastated. She was meeting Damian in the village that she had previously, and again, he counted his blessings. He knew that she felt partly responsible, as they all had a tendency to do now and again. She had been away from the forest for a month while doing ecological work in China. She had been meeting with healers and holy-peoples from all over the world, soaking up their wisdom and insights. 

Things like this fire were still often a shock. It made the team of superheroes feel so vulnerable.

Damian focused on the feeling of Jon’s lips against his own, remembering the younger boy’s firm fingers raking across his biceps. Jon’s strength really shined through in some of their tender moments, and it made the young Robin feel vulnerable but also protected in a very significant way.

He felt sunny inside despite the sinking feeling in his gut. He kept imagining the screams of the dying animals roasting in the flames of corporate greed and climate-denial. His mood soured.

Jon had wanted so badly to come with him. He had so excitedly told Damian about the Sanctuary that he had visited, but after hearing about the fires and working through the grief of it with Damian, he had been ready to don his new Superboy outfit and fly with Robin to fight vandals in the jungle. Clark had needed to assure the young hero that the Justice league was on it. They were already having a lot of success extinguishing the fires, even before Superman chose to get involved. 

To Damian’s understanding, Aquaman would have been a tremendous help if the fires had been on the coast. Unfortunately, they were more inland.

Damian’s stomach, usually so iron-clad, lurched as the jet began its descent out of the clouds. He could see swirls of smoke pluming up from the earth in grey, white, and black swathes. He had been melancholically staring at the smoke for the last twenty minutes. He was not in a good mood, despite the joy that certain memories brought to him.

As they neared the earth, Supergirl, in full superhero attire (as casual as Jon’s old outfit), sailed by the jet in the air, slowing her flight to match pace with the jet to salute Damian on his way down. She was a huge part of their security today. He was grateful.

The forest was not ablaze anywhere near where they were landing, but the smoke still permeated the area. Damian took a deep breath (for him) and prepared to exit the jet. The crowd that had gathered to greet him on the small makeshift runway was much smaller than it had been previously.

He knew that the local villagers were in their community chanting and praying for the forest. The ones that had come to greet him were in full paint, red, orange, and yellow swirls of color covering their lean, sun-soaked bodies. Their demeanor was quite somber. Damian appreciated it. He was going to find out who was doing this, and he was going to stop them.

He took a moment to look out at the jungle, seeing the swirling smoke rising from its depths far away in the distance. It made his skin crawl. He was going to catch the responsible parties. He swore it.

Kara was a bit back from the crowd, surveying him with nervous anticipation. She was a Kent through and through, and her heartbreak showed on every muscle. He turned his attention to the villagers and bowed his head to greet them as they approached.

They were chanting in their native tongue, anointing his head with oils, painting markings onto his forehead and cheeks. They had really connected the last time that he had been here. They were comfortable writing these protections onto him. 

He spent some time speaking with the village translator before motioning to Kara to join him in his private quarters (quarters which he had not used last time, preferring instead to be among the people and the animals that he had come to protect). This situation was different. He needed to talk business with Supergirl. He was not here to be Damian Wayne.

The villagers were acutely aware of his grief and anger. They respected it, as they shared his pain and outrage. One native girl took her time chanting and praying over him. It softened his heart, and he promised that he would examine her ritual more closely later, from the safe vantage point of his memory. Right now, he needed to focus. He was here to be Robin.

As they entered the air conditioned environment of the modern-style building, he almost visibly cringed. The unnecessary comfort was a harsh reminder to him of why these people and lands were being persecuted. He nodded to the suited translator who held the door open for him. The man excused himself to be outside with his people. Damian could easily let himself wonder about how loyal this suited man was to his people since he seemed so keen on accepting the social customs of outsiders, but he was already letting some of his anger go. He was focusing in on his goal. His intentions were sharpening. He could feel his senses heightening beyond their normal resting state of much-higher-than-the-average-person.

Supergirl ushered him into a closed room. He closed the blinds and shut off the lights, preferring to be in the low light coming in through the least covered parts of the windows.

“Any bugs?” he asked, his voice dropping a bit in pitch.

“No. I already checked. There’s a medicine-man in the village listening, but his clairaudience is focused on the Jungle. I asked him not to listen in on us.” She replied crisply. She decided to hug her friend. He did not return the gesture, but he let her hug him, which was a sign of great charity given his current temperament. Her skin reminded him of Jon’s.

“I’m so sorry, Damian. This is so horrible.” She said, looking at him in the eyes. He chose instead to peer through the slats of the blinds out at the nearby village.

“This is not your fault. Any leads?” he replied coolly. She had never worked with him on a case as Robin, but she was quickly realising that it was Robin that she was talking with. He reminded her of Bruce.

She chose not to fight it.

“Nightwing has been tracking the assailants from the break-in that you were at, but their trail just seems to vanish. I’ve busted some of the local farmers a county away setting fires, and I was able to provide the local authorities with evidence to convict them. Otherwise, I’ve been tracking a villain down here calling himself ‘Pyro.’ He seems to be a corporate goon. Super-scientist gone rogue. Typical story. Not very creative.” She said, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall with casual, almost sarcastic ease. Robin recognized his equal. Supergirl was here now, working with Robin on this case. It brought him comfort. She continued to debrief him on the issues.

It seemed that some of the local cow-farmers were being manipulated by a powerful oil tycoon and corporation down here in South America that was hell-bent on running themselves into the dust with their greedy, misguided endeavors. They had certainly hired this ‘Pyro’ to set some of these fires. The media was keeping it quiet, and the local government was reeling. The far-right sentiments in Brazil had been bergeoned by the currently corrupt political party in the United States. European countries were seeing a similar spike in ‘conservative’ domestic terrorism. It made Damian feel like he was dealing with toddlers. Only these toddlers were massively wealthy, operated mostly in the shadows, and were filled with distorted, corrupted perspectives on reality. They felt entitled to the world at the cost of everything in it. In moments like these, Robin understood the Batman on a level beyond conscious recognition. They shared their drive for justice and their deep loathing for the more distasteful aspects of human society.

The two of them planned on sneaking out at nightfall. Damian had a legitimate meeting with some of the investors of the area that were tied into his father’s arrangements for protections of the jungle. He also had a diplomatic meeting to attend and a sit-in with the village to discuss reforestation efforts and renewed security. It was going to be a busy day, but he would get through it like he got through everything else up to this point. There would be more meetings throughout the week.

When deep night fell, they would rendezvous with Nightwing and begin their real patrol. He would get a few hours of sleep between nightfall and that point. Just enough to be alert. The investigation was underway.

~~~~~

When night had fallen and the world’s people sunk away to their blissful dreaming, time seemed to shift into a slower mode for Damian Wayne. Peering at the world through his mask, he seemed to be able to move much more in flow with reality and the way things were. Things that another person would not think could be accomplished in the time-frame that they would be seemed to all fall into place for him when he was wearing that bright red and green. His cape billowed in the night breeze. Moonlight glinted from the trees. The forest seemed to whisper to him in its own cadence, unique, but not unlike the whispers that he often felt in Gotham calling to him through the urban jungle and sprawls of twisted concrete and steel.

This place was deeper though. This place was rich with ecstasy. The ground itself seemed to vibrate with ancient wisdom, seemed to radiate a knowing. The forest knew who had been assailing it, and it knew that Robin was here to avenge its suffering.

The birds rustled in the trees, aware and alert.

Overheard, Supergirl flew past him, searching with her x-ray vision. He was reading tracks on the path that he was following. He could feel the intensity of the big cats that were prowling around tonight. He could feel that the path that he was following was something that they frequently stalked. 

Things watched him through the night. He moved on as silently as he could, almost entirely a shadow. At one point, he landed near a large toucan that was not aware of his presence until he leapt away, keeping clear of vines and insects. It hardly stirred as he disappeared.

These creatures seemed skittish. He could mistake it for respect, but they had been shaken by the fires. They were afraid. It made Robin angry. He focused that anger into his drive for justice.

Already, over the two nights that he had been there, they had busted two drug smugglers and a ring of human traffickers. They were closing in on a gang of pelt-hunters, but the group connected with LexCorp could scarcely be found. Nightwing was frustrated that they had not been able to track them further, but he was just as determined as Damian was to get to the bottom of their connection to all of this. Their silence was maddening, but he and Robin had encountered this before.

Some of these villains were like ghosts. They were whispers down a corridor leading down an abandoned street to a crumbling concrete barricade or brick wall. Distorted and covered by eroding stone, they could be discovered hiding in the rot. Once a stone or brick was pulled back, then there they were, ready to be discovered, wriggling and squirming in their own filth and chaos. Brick road or not, they would be found. In a lot of ways, many of them wanted to be found. Robin found that some of them even secretly wanted to be defeated.

He took in a breath to clear his head, noticing the dense arrays of mycelium and jungle-growth all around him. His periphery extended almost 360 degrees around him. He mused in a dim part of his mind that Jon would love to know the names of these mushrooms. Kara would love to know what they could be used to treat. She was an avid Paul Stamets fan, even meeting with him on several occasions to discuss possible promotional campaigns and to exchange knowledge of practical healing through food and ecology.

He stopped, surveying a canyon wall that dropped off steeply into a mist. He was right on the edge of it, high up in the tree cover. Critters of various origins and types made subtle noises all around him. The jungle vibrated with life. He took a genuinely deep breath of the rich jungle air. Moisture filled his lungs, quite different from the acrid perfume of Gotham.

Here, they was no asphalt absorbing heat throughout the day. Waterfalls tumbled unseen in the background. No taxi-cabs whirled about. No helicopters spun on overhead. It was serene.

Supergirl silently descended next to him in flight, hovering just out of his reach, looking out over the canyon as he was. Nightwing was late. That could only mean trouble.

After much too long, Supergirl whispered to Robin.

“Over there.”

He jumped onto her back and she flew in that direction, streaking across the canyon at super-speed above the canopy. They descended into a small clearing wherein Nightwing was waiting for them. He looked more somber than usual. Robin hopped down, the three heroes sizing one another up.

After a time, Nightwing spoke. “I ran into a snag.” 

“Yeah, we got that far. What’s up?” Supergirl said.

Nightwing was staring at Robin. Supergirl started looking at him also, looking back between the barely visible Nightwing and the brightly colored Robin.

“There’s a community of people within the jungle up over the ridge behind me.” he started, keeping his eyes on Robin. “The shaman there wants to see you.”

The other two waited for the shoe to drop.

“He asked for you by name, Robin. He knows who you are.”

The mood noticeably tightened. For them, anonymity was crucial to the work that they performed, but a breach like this was not uncommon. Robin was always surprised that it didn’t happen more often.

“Does he know who you are?” he asked quietly, weighing the situation in his mind.

Nightwing shook his head. “He didn’t say. But the people there would not let me leave until I agreed to have you meet with them.” Robin weighed this also. “I trust them.” Nightwing added. That was good enough for Robin in most circumstances. He searched Dick’s eyes again and again. He saw no signs of mind control or coercion that he could detect. He did not have any of the symptoms of a doppelganger. This seemed to be legitimate.

Supergirl was looking Dick up and down, obviously thinking along the same lines as Damian.

“Are those the Wohuntu people that you spoke with?” she asked. Dick nodded, prompting Supergirl to turn to Robin. “They are a good people, Robin. I’ve met with one of their shamans. They have powerful healing techniques. I would trust them.” she continued, not pleadingly, but still asking Damian to trust her and these people.

“They don’t usually meet with outsiders. They only met with me because their chief had a vision of my arrival to their continent. She imparted some serious wisdom to me. It was like she was given a truth just for me. “ She appeared to pause and think for a moment. “I’m actually not really surprised that they asked for you by name. Maybe it’s a similar case. They have strong connections to the Dreamtime.” she stated matter-of-factly, muted, but clearly excited. Her resemblance to Jon was infectious, and it brought Robin maddening comfort.

Earlier in his life, it would have desperately annoyed him. He decided to give in with a small nod. They all started moving.

Within minutes, they had approached the village among the dense trees. The three of them could feel the energy radiating from the place. It was as if the entire tone had changed among the trees. Nearby, a river could be heard. A quiet hung over the dense greenery, powerful, yet loving. It almost reminded Damian of Superman or of Wonder Woman.

They moved in closer and were quickly joined by several natives who seemed to be leading them onwards. Nobody spoke a word.

Amongst the gnarled trees, Robin could make out forms of huts densely overgrown by leaves and vines. He could hear domesticated animals roaming here and there. There were candles burning in some of the huts. Other than that, only the faintest slivers of moonlight peered through the treetops, adding their eerie glow to the community.

Suddenly, they all stopped in unison. Robin looked around at them. The natives were gesturing for him to proceed forward. Nightwing and Supergirl watched on, not speaking a word. Robin stepped forward, mustering all the respect that he could, heart-rate calm like his breathing. He was ready for this. It was almost as if he had dreamt of this in some previous deep-dream-state. Perhaps he had dreamt about this several times before.

Either way, for the most fleeting of moments, he saw what appeared to be frequencies pulsing out of the hut before him. As he approached, he could hear a faint humming, his nose overcome by powerful herbs and flowers that must have been burning. 

Without looking back at his companions, he stepped forward into the gnarled dwelling, stooping low as to avoid the draping vines that had overgrown the doorway. He dared not disturb them.

Inside, there were sticks of thick incense burning here and there, joined by candles of various thickness and colors. The hut, thought full of intermingling smells, did not overpower him. If anything, the effect was pleasant, seeming to relax him. Things that relaxed him put him on edge. He thought briefly of the Scarecrow and his many sedatives and chemicals. He stood in the doorway, drinking in the sight of the woman kneeling away before him. 

For a fleeting moment, he saw what looked like a sizeable geometric pattern radiating from her heart filling the hut and the surrounding area with color and pulsation. He saw a column of crystalline light funneling upwards from her core, another beam of light protruding from her chest and back. Within her field of person were many complex geometric patterns, all filling up what seemed to be a membrane around her reaching out about twenty feet in every direction. The membrane seemed to have swirling hairs on the end of it.

Before he could memorize the entirety of it, the moment shifted, and she turned around, seemed to ‘break the spell.’ He no longer saw the geometric patterns, but he felt the air around the hut go still.

Her hair was a pristine muddled grey, black and silver in the soft light of the candles. She was smiling in a way that made him almost want to relax. He resisted the temptation to become alarmed. Something about her was safe. He could feel that much at the very least. Still, the feeling put him on his guard. He thought again of the Scarecrow, though this person did not have the presence of the Scarecrow.

This person was lovely, if that was the word for it. She seemed to be wise beyond her years, and though her physical presence was quite profound, she seemed to border right on the edge of something else. Robin found himself quite curious. Usually people like this were trying to kill him. This felt noticeably different.

For a while, she continued to hum, and after a time, she rose and started singing lightly, waving around a smudge stick, drenching the hut in smoke. He felt his muscles relaxing, and the Bruce Wayne in him told him to flee. The Superboy in him told him he was safe. She came over to him and paused. He nodded to signal his compliance.

She sang and burned her smudging tool up and down his body, hesitating here and there as if examining something he could not see. He grew comfortable in her presence, looking around at the candles and incense. He thought he saw movement repeatedly out of the corners of his eyes, but what was there would not reveal itself to him. He thought of extraterrestrials that he had encountered and continued to monitor this woman's work.

As she pressed on in her work, he began to get quite warm. He shifted in his legs, knowing that the time for speaking had not yet come.

Eventually, she knelt in front of him and chanted for what seemed like hours. He knew it want that long.

"Damian Wayne." She said softly, looking up at him, her voice deep and rich, her English slow and laboured.

He had fallen into a sort of trance, feeling as though her heart were open to him. He was captivated by the feeling, and though he did not make a habit of underestimating potential enemies, he willed himself to be respectful and quiet lest he offend her in some way.

He was doing this for the forests.

He did not acknowledge her question, but they shared a mutual understanding that she was right.

"You are dating the son of Superman." She continued, eliciting a thought response from him. Despite the chill that ran up his spine, he felt warmer in the hut. It seemed somehow larger.

"I have seen great things in store for you two. Your love is strong."

A part of him wanted to be angry, or to be inquisitive, but he listened on, senses honing in on her. He almost felt like a child in some way again. He could have been standing among the League of Assassins for how he felt.

She looked deeply into his eyes. She was seeing things in his eyes. He could tell.

If she wanted to hurt him, she would have. If she wanted to divulge his secrets, she could. He didn't feel that she wanted to, but he did feel several things on her that he did not recognize.

He searched her eyes in return. They were deep and almost silvery despite their rich earthy tone. She smiled at him as a large tarantula crawled over the small wooden table to his left.

It seemed to be listening.

"The Jungle welcomes you, Robin. It is disturbed by your Gotham city, and by these fires.” she said, gesturing for him to sit with her on the floor of the hut. He obliged, crossing his legs like Jon would. She smiled at him.

“You two are so entwined, darling.” she said in her slow English. He had no need to ask to whom she referred. She took a more serious demeanor, making Damian straighten his back even moreso. “The Forest wants you to take a look at the Words of your people. The ancients need the two of you to look into their insights, as he already has been doing.”

He hung on her every word, carefully aloof and yet fully interested.

“There are many priestcrafts in your country, and many superstitions, but still: you have been called to look again. Your people need you to do this.” She held out her hand to the table, letting the tarantula crawl onto her arm to eventually rest on her shoulder.

“I can help you while you are here, but I know that you are leaving again soon. Take what I give you back to your city and go love the one made for you.” She smiled at him, but it was a deep thing. It reeked of mystery and knowing.

Damian agreed, and for two days and nights stayed with her there. She spoke with him about his past with his mother and the League of Assassins. She spoke with him about his love for Jon and for his family. He held nothing back that she requested, and in turn, she practiced powerful energy techniques on him meant for his healing. 

It was as if she was a soul doctor performing complex surgeries on him during their time together. He often found himself sweating. One long session left him trembling so badly that he had to lay down and nap. He dreamt of old wounds and past situations.

Though she gave him no substances, the effects of her work were quite apparent. She was doing something that was for a higher good to his person. He welcomed it, though he remained skeptical. However, his years of fighting crime and of being around beings with abnormal abilities had softened his inner critic enough for him to let her work. Work she did.

By the third day, when Kara and Dick returned to tell him that they had encountered Pyro and defeated him, he felt weak in a way that was new to him, so much so that he was not even disappointed that he had not been there to help.

He was ready to return to Gotham. He was ready to be around Superboy.

~~~~~

On the jet home, he remembered some of the things the woman had imparted to him in her many workings. 

“Do not let the priestcrafts of your lands subsume all of the healings. Do not let them hide these gifts. Take not the world at face value, nor let them deceive you by their reasonings.”

“Logic without feeling is a one-winged bird, Robin. Mind without heart cannot fly.”

“You and your friends, the ones called heroes, must move into a new time. The old times have passed. Be renewed, child. Feel the Love of the Great One.”

He felt exhausted. He was unsure about his time spent with her. To his surprise, much of what she had said had gone over his head.

For not the first time in his life, he was glad to be the son of Batman. He was glad in some way to have been raised among secret Assassins. He may not have withstood what she had done to him otherwise.


	5. Masks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Damian and Jon attend a Smashing Pumpkins concert. Then, Damian goes on a mission at a psychiatric institution. Enjoy~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter deals with heavier subject matters than the previous ones. Those topics come about after the two have sex. Reader discretion is advised.

Jonathan’s head was still buzzing with music. The fake bald head that he was wearing felt hot and tight, but he was enjoying it. He was so exhilarated!

Damian had taken his hand and was leading him snickering up the stairs to their fancy hotel room, singing lyrics from Bleeding the Orchid (by the Smashing Pumpkins). Jon was also laughing, feeling less silly now in his fake tattoos and bald head. He played with his fake septum piercing with his lip, giggling and blushing at Damian, reaching out with his heart in an attempt to feel his boyfriend’s energies through his hand.

The two of them had gone to a nearby city (only a few states away) on a superhero mission that had been a roaring success (in part due to Damian’s renewed sense of intuition). They had needed to go undercover for their mission earlier in the week, so Damian had prepared much more in ways of disguises for them for their night at the concert that they had just attended.

They had spent most of the last two days (after their mission had ended) visiting parks and museums, art galleries and fun restaurants, but they had spent a good part of that day preparing for their evening “with the Pumpkiiiins!”

The young Robin had seemed to be more of a teenager these days than he had seemed in a year or two. His time in the jungle, even though the circumstances had been so unpleasant, seemed to have ignited a new spark in his heart. He had told Jon that he hadn’t realized all of the effects that their lifestyle had been having on him. Ever since visiting the shaman in the amazon, he seemed to have a revived attitude about life. He was eating even better than he had been (eating plenty of mangoes, strawberries, and kiwis), and he had been sleeping better, too.

Sure, they encountered people with powers all the time, but so many of those people were motivated by greed or by harm. So few of those seemingly magical beings, even the ‘good guys’, appeared interested in doing more than punching people. That woman had been quite different.

Under the sway of this newfound zest for life, Damian had been calling Jonathan every night so they could talk about their days. He knew how badly Jon wanted to be out there on patrol with him some nights, so he made up for it by sending Jon fun vegan sweets by delivery to his home and even once to his school. Jon had blushed so hard when the order of treats had arrived for him and his friends, interrupting their lunch session outside.

He had spent hours on the phone sharing with his boyfriend all of the things that he was uncovering in his studies of various religions. He seemed most keyed up about the Abrahamic faiths. Something about the Koran especially seemed to interest him. Jon was more than thrilled to listen to what he had been uncovering while sharing his own adventures and what he had been discovering in Buddhist and now Taoist texts.

Damian, full of this renewed vigor, had really gone all out to make Jon feel appreciated and special all that week. Jon looked at his temporarily dyed red hair above those magnificent green eyes as they approached their room. He admired the hard spikes that Damian had set his hair in. They both were wearing thick black eyeliner and had their nails painted black, Damian wearing a tight white and black striped shirt of a very thin material under a dingy red vest. He wore black shorts.

Jon had needed to be doctored up a bit in order to attend the show, hence the bald head and fake piercing. He had to admit to himself that it had been fun to let Damian paint the tattooed sleeves onto his arms. He loved when his Robin would touch him.

He was no stranger to musical shows. The two boys had gotten to attend a Crystal Castles concert last year after Damian had the Wayne foundation donate a new tour bus and some equipment to the Canadian band. The group had absolutely no qualms about the two minors attending their show because of that. Even Jon’s parents had been alright with it. They had told him that they would be hypocrites if they would let him fight crime but then not trust him at a concert. They weren’t thrilled about the means, but they agreed to the end.

Of course, there had been drinking and smoking at the show, but Jon and Damian had no interest in any of that. They were superheroes.

As fantastic as it had been to dance their tails off to Crystal Castles last year, this experience had been much different. For one thing, a full year had passed since then, but most foremost was the fact that they were dating now. Their whole weekend together had been like one big date, and it made Superboy’s heart swell. He had not even realized the subtle barrier that had existed between the two crime fighter’s in ways of sexual tension beforehand. He knew that he had had a crush on Damian, and he knew that he had often daydreamed about dating him, but now that they were together, they both found themselves relaxing in a way that everyone around them seemed to notice, no less the two of them.

They had ran into Nightwing at the concert (surely no coincidence), who had also been in disguise. Dick had sported temporarily dyed blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail. He knew at once from the piercings in Damian’s ears and from their appearances that they had employed some very high quality forgeries of licences to get into the concert. He was right, of course. Damian’s ID said that he was 22. Jon’s own said that he was 18.

Sure, being dishonest like that was not the most comfortable thing for the son of Superman, but they had also employed similar methods on their mission. He also had to agree with his parents: if he could put himself into life-threatening situations to fight crime and to save lives, then he deserved to go to a concert without a chaperone, local laws not withstanding.

Nightwing hung out with them for a while, but had soon left them accompanied by a lovely girl that he had just met. Jon certainly enjoyed Dick’s company, but he had been happy to spend the rest of the concert with just his boyfriend. They had seemed so in tune with each other all that weekend, and he wanted some alone time with him now that their mission out there had been over.

Jon had kept getting powerful smells of him wafting among the aromas of the concert, and it had been working him up all night. They both ended up musky, and they both loved it.

They found themselves holding hands through a lot of the concert whenever they were not raising their arms in a frenzy or wrapping their arms around one another while they bumped and swayed in the crowd. Jon really liked when they were able to grind their hips into one another, happy to be in front or behind his energetic partner.

His mind drifted for a moment to when the band had played Ava Adore. Damian had sung almost the whole song to Jon, locking eyes with him and dancing seductively. Eventually, he had wrapped his arms around his partner and had sung what he could into the other boy’s ears. Jon had noticed several onlookers either looking at them with affection and approval or else cheering them on as Damian danced.

He could be so sexy when he wanted to be (and around Jon, he wanted to be quite often)! Jon caught quite a few women, and even a guy or two, checking Damian out on their date. It made him feel all the more special.

The whole night was running around in Superboy’s mind as they burst into their upscale hotel room. Damian had a real talent for picking hotels that were quite elegant but not so fancy that it would draw unwanted attention to themselves.

As soon as the door was closed on them, Damian was pressing himself against the younger man, sticking his tongue into his mouth and running his hands all over his body through the black button-up tank top that the now bald-headed boy was wearing. The chains on their black jeans jingled as they kissed so enthusiastically.

They wrestled a bit and grabbed at various parts of one another, working off some of their steam, laughing and horsing around.

They moved into singing another song together (United States) as his partner turned lights on and flicked off his shoes, moving over to his bag of gadgets to fish for his laptop. They still had a lot of energy despite it being so late. They were completely acclimated to being up late.

Jon pounced on him and rubbed his shoulders while kneeling on the bed behind him. Damian managed to queue up a playlist of the Pumpkins for them to rock out to. Jon peeled off Damian’s red vest and tossed it onto the floor.

They started head banging and thrashing to the songs, playing air guitar and singing at each other. After a track or two, both of them bouncing around on the bed, Jon took to the air and pulled off the rubber bald-head, shaking his dark hair, letting it unfurl and breathe.

He was acutely aware of his partner watching him. He made sure to twirl around in the air as he peeled off his sweaty tank top and threw it onto the floor, revealing the sleeveless fishnet undershirt that he had been wearing. He danced seductively in the air for the other. Damian put his fingers into his mouth and whistled, eyeing the boy up and down while making tiger sounds.

In just a fraction of a moment’s notice, Jon saw his demeanor change and knew what it meant.

Just as the trained assassin leapt for him, he positioned his arms to catch him, spinning them both above the floor of the hotel room as they wrestled with one another.

“Lover, lover, catch me slow  
You can serve me notice  
You can have my sight  
Lover, lover, stay with me all night”

The lyrics to Quasar resonated in the air as the two started kissing and laughing, their kissing deepening and slowing as they started to truly share the excitement of the night with each other. They could feel their erections pressing against one another. Damian’s legs locked around his boyfriend’s hips as he felt up his muscles. They paused for a brief moment as Superboy took off Robin’s musky shirt, sweet with the spicy scent of the darker boy.

Jon supported Damian’s weight easily, swaying them in the air as they rotated together, pulling Damian’s hips against him. He slid his hands purposefully over Damian’s rear and up his back, pulling him closer and closer.

As their kisses deepened, Jon moved them so that they were laying parallel to the bed. He lowered them so that he was on top of Damian. He ground his erect member against the other, running his hands down his body, making Damian moan and mutter his name. Jon snaked his tongue down Damian’s body, licking over his favorite scars before his partner pushed him onto his back and leapt on top of him, grinding his rear into the younger boy.

“You’re so beautiful.” he whispered into Jon’s ear. Jon shivered, groin aching with longing.

“I love you, Damian.” Jon whispered in the near-dark, letting the weight of their whole week wash over him as the music did the same.

Damian leaned down to kiss Jon’s adam’s apple, grinding his erection against his own.

“You are so amazing. I wouldn’t trade this moment with you for anything in the cosmos.” Damian said as Jon let his hands roam over his body. Their hearts swelled. Jon found himself looking inside Damian’s chest to watch the acceleration of his heartbeat as he touched him. He wanted to know his lover in and out.

Before long, Damian was biting and kissing his way down Jon’s torso, all the while trailing his fingertips against his skin and rubbing his cock through his underwear.

When he got to Jon’s lower half, he peeled the teen out of his jeans and then out of his small black underwear. He smelled up Jonathan’s erection (making them both shiver) before licking its length and teasing his head with his tongue.

He moved to sucking on Jon’s member while Jon watched him do this with his x-ray vision. He moaned and rubbed his lover’s head, so caught up in the moment.

Damian probed a finger against Jon’s sweaty hole. Jon moaned.

“Mmmm. Yeah. Dami, pleeeease. Finger me.” he breathed out, dick twitching in Damian’s skillful throat. The other's tongue massaged his base as he eagerly obliged Jon’s request.

One finger became two became Damian’s tongue. Jon opened his legs as Damian rimmed him hard but absolutely lovingly. His dick leaked precum openly, throbbing in anticipation. He gripped the sheets and moaned, pushing his own head back into the pillow under it, still looking at the world with his x-ray vision. He saw into the room above them through his closed eyelids, not really paying all that much attention to it. His heart beat more quickly in his own chest.

He felt Damian’s tongue press against him harder, making him pant and moan. He licked up and down, around and pressed inwards, moving his tongue as methodically as when he gave Jon head. He reached up and slowly pulled Jon’s foreskin down and then back up. Down and then back up, massaging his cock and making him precum.

Finally, with several kisses and bites given to his thighs, Jon whimpered as Damian righted himself and moved into position to take him.

“May I enter you, lover?” Damian asked, pulling Jon’s legs over his shoulders, kissing his knee. He had somehow grabbed a bottle of lube and was slicking up his hot shaft.

Jon was busy watching Damian’s heartbeat through his chest. The bright emerald eyes looking down seductively at him through rings of heavy eyeliner made Jon want to cum right then and there. He looked at him normally.

“Take me.” he moaned. “Pleeease. I want you so much.” he found that he said that often lately, meaning it so fully that it made his whole heart swell. His insides writhed, eager to be filled.

Damian smiled down at him, loving so much that Jon wouldn’t cuss, and slowly pressed into him, both of them moaning as his erection penetrated the boy of steel. Once he had hilted himself inside Jon, he leaned down and planted soft kisses against his lips. Jon moaned and kissed back, tasting Damian’s sweat, watching himself get fucked with his x-ray vision again employed.

The older boy gripped his hips roughly, and they fell into a rhythm all their own, quite familiar with each other’s bodies by that point. The hotel room filled with the sounds of their passionate love-making and with the smells of their sex.

It felt as though they slipped into the inner lives of one another, resonating in body and emotion so deeply that they revelled in one another’s every movement.

They shared aloud deep feelings and compliments while Damian drove his rock-hard manhood into Jon again and again and again. After what could have been hours, with chest riddled with light finger markings, Jonathan rolled over onto his stomach and asked Damian to take him from behind, playing up his submissiveness and really letting the other take charge.

They had been edging for quite some time, so Damian plunged his erection into him yet again and wrapped an arm around his mighty chest, the other arm laying out above Jon’s head. He wove his fingers into Jon’s and began kissing, biting, and sucking at his neck and shoulders. Jon shivered, telling Damian how sexy he was and how much he wanted him.

With the pace of their movements growing in intensity moment by tender moment, Jon found himself wrapped in Damian’s arms, twisting his neck and shoulders around so the two could kiss as they both neared climax. Jon felt that he was going to cum soon just from Damian’s driving into his lovehole. 

“I’m getting so close.” he panted to his lover.

“So am I.” Damian almost whispered before kissing him again. They carried on for several minutes before orgasming strongly, Damian into Jon, Jon into the bedsheets that were twisted up under him on the black hotel bed.

Jon watched and felt as his lover’s hot seed shot into him, his hole tightening around the erect shaft.

They stayed like that for some time, embracing one another, Jon massaging Damian’s cock with his anal muscles, Damian planting sweet kisses against Jon’s shoulders and back. He bit the back of his neck softly and sucked on him.

They fell into their afterglow together, in perfect harmony, in bliss.

~~~~~

Damian seemed to really like to lay on his partner’s chest, but it was Jon who had curled up against Damian’s neck and body, the older boy on his back. He was rubbing Damian’s hard abs and chest muscles, their legs wrapped up together.

“You make my life complete, farm boy.” Damian spoke, letting them take that in for a moment. “I couldn’t be who I am without you in my life.” he whispered, looking over at Jon with his deeply emerald eyes. Jon looked back almost shyly with his beautiful sapphire ones. They kissed tenderly. Jon was feeling really submissive tonight, swept off his feet by the intensity of Damian’s romance and recent behaviours.

He rubbed Damian’s neck with his face and kissed his ear.

“I’m so glad that we can be like this together.” he spoke into the other’s ear. “This just feels so right.” He nestled his head into the crook of the other’s neck before kissing it gently. “I think I’ve been in love with you for a long time, Damian Wayne.” he said, moving his hand down as Damian moved his right hand up. They held hands. Jon felt Damian flush.

“You know I feel the same way.” He kissed Jon’s hand before resting their entwined arms on his chest. “You’re so perfect.” he pulled him close with his free arm.

They lay there like that for some time, each thinking their own thoughts. They had come to this city to bust a child sex ring, which they had managed to do. Jonathan had been the one in disguise, even going so far as letting himself be drugged by an assailant to get data on them.

Little did those perpetrators know that he had been bugged with very sophisticated audio/visual recording devices that were hidden in his hair and on his forehead. The one on his forehead had looked like a birthmark.

In order to not finger himself with the possibility of voice recognition, Jon had pretended to be a deaf homeless child. Damian had skillfully added freckles to his face that genuinely made him look younger. He had worn contacts and a fake wig.

After he had been successfully kidnapped (having to pretend to be fully drugged because of its ineffectiveness against his half-kryptonian physiology), he had allowed himself nearly to be sold, allowing the criminals to strip and examine him. Before anything sexual had been allowed to happen (just before), Robin had arrived with the local S.W.A.T. team to rescue the other children in the building.

Jon had headed up their secret escape route, fully aware of the building’s floor plan prior to entering it. Together, they squanched any form of resistance.

Superboy trusted Robin with his life, and he knew for a fact that those crooks could not have really hurt him if they had tried. He had been, of course, terribly upset to discover ten or fifteen other children at their hideout earlier in their reconnaissance. Their presence alone had lead him to agree to go undercover and get kidnapped. Damian was making up for it ever since, not liking at all that he had been stripped and probed by the assailants.

Jon had needed to use up his entire Spring Break from school in order to perform their little sting operation, but it had been completely worth it. It wouldn’t have been enough to punch these crooks. They needed to be convicted of their crimes in a court of law.

He truly hoped that the other children were safe and sound now that the gangsters selling them had been put behind bars. He knew that they were. He was just so grateful that he and Robin had been able to do something about it. The entire time, thoughts about his friends from school kept entering his mind. He would never wish anything like that onto anybody.

This was all just part of being a superhero, but what Damian and Jon shared was deeply special. They both knew it, and cherished the other for it, safe and sound in each other’s arms.

He gently kissed Damian again as they drifted off to sleep together in a sweaty embrace, each smelling and feeling the other in their stillness, the Pumpkins long since silenced.

~~~~~

They awoke slowly, taking their time to get up and get acquainted with the new day, rubbing each other and making loving noises. After they did wake up, Jon began the meditation practice that Damian had been joining him in lately. They sat in contemplative practice for about an hour, clearing their minds and monitoring their breathing and thoughts.

Damian ended the practice early, kissing Jon on the forehead before ordering them some room service. The meal came right as Jon was concluding for the day. He perked up at the smell of the delicious food that they were about to eat (all vegetarian, mind you).

Jon dug into some toast and pancakes while Damian pulled out his state-of-the-art laptop and hooked it up to the television. Jon knew that he would be looking for any leads on additional illegal activities that they could head up before leaving the city.

Damian, with all of his tech savvy, had created an algorithm to record news programs that were of interest. Before long, he stumbled onto a story that they both were interested in watching.

The news program headline read: “Scarecrow turns himself in to local authorities! Says ‘Act of God’ has lead him ‘to repentance.’ Public skeptical.”

The two young sluths looked at each other and turned up the program.

A stern but pretty looking young woman news anchor had given the story.

“The man known as ‘The Scarecrow’ has turned himself in to local authorities this evening after an extended episode at a local Pentecostal church. Church authorities say that Jonathan Crane stayed with them for several weeks before succumbing to a nervous mental breakdown in the middle of a service.

“During his nervous mental break, he revealed his identity as ‘The Scarecrow’ and sought their advice. After being convinced to turn himself in to local authorities, he is now being held in an undisclosed location.”

Damian was already typing away madly on his laptop, no doubt scouring police databases in search of Crane’s location.

“Gotcha!” He said, pulling up a small window of blueprints to a psychiatric institution somewhere in the area, not enlarging it enough to block out the previously recorded newscast.

“Though this controversy has stirred deep opinions on many sides, plans are set to move the former psychologist back to Gotham City to face trial for the many acts of vandalism, robbery, assault, and terrorism that he has committed. Gotham officials are taking all precautions to ensure that the disturbed individual does not make any efforts to escape or to harm anyone during this transition.”

Damian was typing again, and Jonathan had the feeling that he was talking with members of the Justice League to confirm the validity of the statements being made by the program.

He clicked a button and skipped ahead to a different newscast, this time headed by a much darker-skinned, much older gentleman with a fuzzy mustache and a receded hairline. A picture of a gaunt man with dark circles under his eyes flashed across the screen next to the newscaster.

“Jonathan Crane, a man known to many as ‘The Scarecrow’ will be moved to Gotham City tomorrow amidst skepticism about his apparent ‘acceptance of Jesus Christ’ and ‘repentance from his life of crime’ in order for him to face trial for his crimes. Though the date of the trial has yet to be set, top authorities in Gotham City have disclosed that they will be expediting that process as much as possible in the coming weeks.

“We have now the only public statement that the former Dr. Crane has been allowed to make.”

The news program went to a different picture of Jonathan Crane, one that had obviously been taken in better days. Though he was quite thin, his hair the color of straw, he looked quite intelligent. Jonathan, however, recognized a certain glint in his eyes that only the most seasoned of crime-fighting veterans might recognize as a seed of sinister intent.

Though the young Superboy was firmly against profiling of any kind, even the younger Jonathan Crane had something in his appearance that seemed off to the boy. He reached out and held Damian’s hand, his eyes glued to the program. Damian smiled only slightly, watching his lover from his periphery, eyes also fixed to the program.

A thin recording began to play over the moving picture of Crane.

“I would just like to tell any young people out there… not to idolize me. Don’t idolize villainy… This… is no way to live… I have hurt so many people, and now I’m going to do my part to pay for it like I should. You young people… turn back now and forget this madness. To the rest of you: there is hope. Hope for young and old… Please, for your own sake, don’t let this be you.”

The image returned to the dark newscaster, who spoke in a low tone. “A chilling message indeed.” It would seem from his appearance that he, too, had been moved by the sincerity and regret in Jonathan Crane’s voice.

Damian typed a bit more, clicked through a few windows on screen, and the police recording of the Scarecrow calling in to the local police started playing for them to hear. No such recording had as of yet been released to the public.

“911. Please state the nature of your emergency.”

“H-hello?” Crane sounded almost confused. He certainly sounded dazed. There was no question from the way his voice warbled that he had been crying. A short pause left the two boys listening in anticipation. “Hello? Is this the police?” The timber of the voice made Jon shiver. Damian pulled him into his lap, mostly just for the fun of it.

The man on the phone had begun sobbing, obviously overwhelmed with grief. Voices in the background could be heard telling him that it was okay and that he was doing the right thing.

The dispatch agent repeated their inquiry.

“I- I’m calling in because... I have hurt sooo many people.” The cadence in the voice made Jon start to tear up. The man continued to sob.

“Is anyone currently in danger? Are you currently harming people, sir?” The dispatch agent held their own. Jonathan was impressed. 

More encouragement could be heard on the other line.

“N-no. Nobody is in danger. I haven’t harmed anyone for some time.” Jonathan Crane cleared his throat before the dispatch agent could ask any more questions. “I’m calling because… because I’m the Scarecrow!” His voice dropped as he started sobbing again. It sounded to Jon like someone was hugging him.

“You’re the Scarecrow??”

“YES!” More sobbing. “I’m the Scarecrow from Gotham, and I’m currently here in your city. I- I was here to pull a heist. Arrest me!” his voice dropped away from the phone again.

“Sir, what’s your name and current location?”

Another pause. “My name… My name is Jonathan Crane. I’m at 2218 North First St at the Church of the Holy Fire in Peter County.” His voice was a bit stronger now, but it certainly seemed hollow.

“I’m sending a unit over right now. Please stay on the line while I get a car routed to your location.” 

Crane could be heard whimpering as though he had been physically injured. His voice trembled as he responded.

“H-hurry! I’m a dangerous criminal!” he relayed into the phone. 

“Is anyone currently in danger? Are you armed, Mr. Crane?”

“Doctor Crane, and no, I’m not armed... I-I-I burned my costume. I burned everything I had out here! B-but I had poison. I had fear gas and poison, all gone. Oh, merciful God, forgive me!”

“Just stay on the line with me, sir. Are you around someone safe? Are you in any danger of harming yourself?”

“M-m-myself? No… I deserve whatever I get… I deserve it, don’t you see??” He practically squealed into the phone before breaking down into more tears.

“Stay with me, Jonathan. Are there others there with you?”

A resounding reply could be heard from various church members who were no doubt listening in on the conversation.

After about five minutes or less of additional questioning and consoling, police officers must have arrived at the scene, all to the applause of the church members. As the din quieted, it could be heard that they were congratulating Jonathan Crane on turning himself in.

“I have to go now,” was the last thing that he said on the recording, sounding both relieved and terrified. Damian closed all of the windows on his laptop. The television screen in the hotel showed only his desktop wallpaper: a blood red plane with black etchings of what someone must have thought looked tech-savvy.

Jonathan already knew that Damian was going to go see him, and he knew that he was going to go see him alone. After some conversation, the two resumed their breakfast, recovering their energy and positivity like two well-trained heroes knew how to do.

~~~~~

After taking a shower together and lounging about the hotel room watching movies and doing homework (Damian opting to research everything that had happened to Jonathan Crane over the last month as much as he could), and after sharing a lunch together on an outing, they wrapped up dinner (an ordered pizza). Damian suited up for his mission.

They had mostly rubbed off the black eye liner from the previous night, though some smoky shadows remained around their striking eyes. Of course, their nails were still painted black.

What he had learned from the Justice League was that Red Hood was already at the psychiatric hospital where Crane was being held, keeping tabs on him should this all turn out to be some sort of elaborate ruse. 

Jon helped Robin finish putting on his civilian clothes over his costume, not that Robin needed any help. Jon did this in the nude since they had decided to stay that way for the simple joy of it, enjoying the freedom of it with one another. They had mostly not had sex again that day, though Damian had given Jon a hand job in the shower earlier (he hadn’t come), and Jon had returned the favor by giving him a blow job right before he was ready to head out. Damian had certainly came down Jon’s eager throat.

"For luck. Not that the sexy Robin needs much luck." He had said, grinning and kissing Damian's excited member, licking it up and down.

They kissed before Robin departed, Jon knowing that his staying behind was best. He was finishing up a report anyway that wouldn't take him that long.

He could have gone out patrolling without Damian, but they agreed that he should just stay in and rest. Even Damian wasn't really doing anything that particularly dangerous. He was just breaking into a top psychiatric hospital to talk with a super villain about Jesus Christ. Nothing that foreboding.

"See you soon." Jon said.

"I love you, farm boy." Damian said, giving Jon a last light peck on the lips. Jon held his own bottom lip in his teeth and waved with his fingers goodbye as Damian left the hotel room.

Jon knew that Robin would change once he was a distance away from the hotel, keeping safe from video cameras or onlookers. They were good at this hero stuff. 

What he didn't know was that Damian held the image of Jon standing there in Damian's boxers waving with his fingers with his lip in his teeth in his mind for many blocks afterwards, willing the image to nestle deeply into his heart.

Jon kept the boxers on, settling at the desk in the room to start finishing his report. He had mostly no trouble concentrating and wondered how his friends were doing on their reports since they were due soon. He tapped his pencil's eraser against his lip, thinking.

Several blocks away (about 12), Damian stole into a safe location and donned his mask, stowing away his civilian attire to fully become Robin once more. He had felt lately like his time being Robin was coming to a close, and for some reason, he found himself reflecting on that now.

Stowing the thought of a mostly naked Superboy away, he shot his grappling gun up onto a nearby building and began the trek to his target, the sun setting rapidly in his wake.

He kept to the shadows. They were practically his home anyway. He certainly kept a vacation home there, to say the least.

At last he happened upon the roof that Red Hood currently occupied. They had spotted each other a long way off.

"You should have told me you were coming." The voice behind the hood spoke.

"You knew I was in town." Robin replied.

"Ah, I guess you just missed me. I have that effect on people. Where's the other cape?" He teased.

"He has intelligence to gather. So obviously he's far away from you" 

"Uh huh. You little boogers must be pretty tired with all that love nesting." Though covered completely, Robin could tell that Red Hood's mouth was turned upwards in a large grin. Robin waited. "Aaaanyway, what brings you over to these woods? You know, you never call anymore."

Damian explained hearing about the Scarecrow.

"I… had a thought about him down in the Amazon. More like a strong feeling. Apparently, that was the same day that he turned himself in. His emotions must have been running high."

"So what, now you're going all Carl Jung synchronistic on us, or what? Here to count prayer beads?" Red Hood smiled.

Robin dropped off the roof with a small "Cover me."

Some time between Robin leaving the hotel and arriving at Red Hood, Jon had finished his paper, lit some candles, and begun to meditate. He began to feel each part of his body and relax it starting with the head all the way down to his toes. During this process, he started feeling out for Damian. He was not necessarily consciously aware of this, but his heart certainly was.

Their hotel room still smelled of the fragrant white lilies that Damian had bought him just earlier. His body still ached from their lovemaking. Even Damian's scent still clung to his body, his seed digesting inside of him. He felt so deeply connected to Damian that just as Robin was speaking with Red Hood, Jon got the impression that Robin was out there feeling annoyed but moderately amused. Mistaking these impressions for his own feelings, he began to move deeper into the meditation.

As Jon relaxed, he began to smile, his radiant personality filling the hotel room with innocence and delight, and during this deepening, he began to feel his connection to Damian Wayne. He wondered consciously if he could still feel him out there on his mission, and he got the strange impressions of green and some bleachy smell. He thought that he saw dimmed lighting.

The tiles that Robin stalked across happened to be a dark forest green, a mellow brown and white geometric pattern playing across them. The mental hospital, for Jonathan Crane's own safety as well as their own, had him in isolation on the third floor. Robin had already hacked the cameras to be on a short loop, having done so before entering the building. He picked the lock on the door quite easily and slipped inside without even a whisper.

"Hello, Robin." The voice that greeted him was quite calm, slowed by the sadness of some weight against it. It was low so as not to alert anyone to its new guest, though the staff was quite used to its mutterings and prayer at night by this point. It seemed quite casual.

"Jonathan Crane." Robin replied.

"I've been expecting someone to show up. I'm a bit surprised that it's you though, to be perfectly honest. I thought I saw Red Hood prowling around earlier."

The man before Robin looked even more gaunt than he remembered. Though only his hands and head remained uncovered, Robin made out thin but deep razor cuts all over his hands and even his neck. He also saw that someone had shaved the man’s head. He found out later that Crane had done that himself.

Despite his appearance, he did not look frightening in the least. In fact, he looked deeply humbled. A sort of kindness seemed to hang about the room in a somber, delicate way. 

Back at the hotel, Jon had the impression that Damian was shaving. Something about shaving. Or razors. He did not cling to the thought and let himself calmly focus. He got the impression of a small bed and simple surroundings. He thought of soft cotton.

Maybe because he had been spending so much time with Jon lately, but maybe in part because of what the shaman had done to him, Robin found himself feeling sympathy for this man. He pushed this thought aside and refocused his intentions. He was here for an interrogation. Not a pity party.

“What happened to you, Crane?”

The man flinched as though he had been expecting to be called something worse. When he realized that Robin had addressed him by name, he seemed to perk up.

“Christ saved me.” he whispered, looking down at the floor. Then he shifted his attention to Robin’s eyes. He could have made anyone else recoil with the mad sort of sad joy that Damian saw there. He looked expectantly at Robin.

“How?” he asked, inching slightly to the left to have a better view of the door’s small window and to have easier access to a panel in the ceiling that Robin planned to use if someone should come by. He knew that the last room check had been about five minutes before he had entered this level of the building.

The former Scarecrow, though seeming timid and quite tired, seemed relieved to talk about what had happened with someone who may understand. Someone “who wore a mask” as he put it. He opened up to Robin quite readily.

“I suppose that you want to know why someone like me would even buy into all of this. What could I possibly have seen or heard that would make me want to turn myself in for all of the horrendous things that I have done? Well, I’ll tell you. ‘Perfect love casts out fear.’ Fear, Robin.” He looked scared but honestly peaceful.

“I have lived my life in fear. I have exposed my clients to fear. I have been obsessed with fear. But perfect love casts out fear. Casts out fear.” He shuddered. “For a character of my profession, the relevance of that statement alone is chilling.”

Crane spoke on about why he looked the way he did. “At first, I was skeptical, of course. I moved out here as a con. I wanted to escape the roaming eyes of you and your band, so I came out here ready to terrorize the community. I was ready until she came into my practice. Lauretta Walters.”

He proceeded to tell Robin, quietly, of how Lauretta began to pray for him in their sessions. He had entertained the idea at first, ready to exploit it later, when things had begun to change for him. Strange coincidences started to occur. He had eventually begun to question his sanity, so, to do away with any lingering superstitions, he started to read the book called the Bible. 

That was when things really started to change for him. Some of the passages seemed to be speaking to him. Some of them seemed to be cutting through right to his heart. He started feeling, of all things, remorse for his obsessions. 

Breaking patient-caregiver relations, he confided some of this in Lauretta, in time. She invited him to church.

“I started feeling things that I haven’t felt since I was a boy, Robin. I started wondering again. I started feeling. I started living past the fear.” The sense of wonder and awe that filled Crane’s voice made something stir in the young detective. There was a sincerity about it all that even the most accomplished liars and thespians would have struggled to convey. “So I started fasting and praying.”

Robin got the sense that this man would have traded his left arm to gain access to the things that he was describing. Jon, back at the Hotel, thought about Damian’s left arm. He also picked up a name: Lo, Greta.

“You know, in the media and mainstream fantasy, we have a cultural habit of making the paranormal seem fantastical. We make it seem grandiose and out of the reach of the common experience, but these things are far more realistic. They are earthier than people imagine. 

“Now, of course, I know of the historical inaccuracy of much of this text. I know that the text has been altered over time, often at the pressings of power-hungry groups. And I am aware that many of these experiences that I have had could have or even did take place in my own mind, despite verifiable encounters with third parties, but that really seems to me to be a deep element of the beauty of this all. I am so grateful to have felt all of this. Even if it was ‘all in my head’” He looked upwards, looking at something quite beyond the room. He was smiling softly.

“What else could stir a person’s mind like mine and get them to consider that the precepts on which our current society are built are actually the fantasy, and that the real lay within something else?”

Robin simply listened, acutely aware of the hallway outside the room. Oddly enough, in his current condition, this man seemed much more himself than he had ever seemed to Robin in his Scarecrow costume and mask. His father, he knew, seemed more himself in his mask, much like Damian did. He wondered, then, about the Kents. He supposed that they really wore masks of their own, too.

He reflected on everything he was hearing and postulated on the long-term ramifications of it all.

“I saw… things, Robin. No doubt you have had some incredible experiences being the boy wonder, but I started to see archetypes of our collective humanity manifesting in auditory and visual hallucinations. Or at least, that’s what I thought. At this point, I remain skeptical whether or not these manifestations were not all entirely internally fabricated.” He looked around the room somewhat dreamily. “But that’s not the point.”

He told Robin a bit about his synchronistic experiences. He also told him about the church and about the prophecies and instances of praying in tongues that had touched the church. Their church chose to write interpretations of tongues down instead of saying them aloud. In all of the cases that they had prayed this way, they had had no less than four verifiable interpretations, each with their own stylistic flare, but all supporting the message being conveyed.

“I was trained as a psychologist and researcher. I have performed lab experiments. But this. This was something unique to my experience. It transcended all of my preconceived notions and truly made me believe in something else. Something that not even J.B Rhine could have pointed me towards.

“This is the best thing that ever happened to me.” He looked into Robin’s eyes. “You know how this goes. The only way out is through. 

“I am so appreciative for what I have seen. For what I have truly seen.” He breathed a gentle sigh.

“This Scripture shows us who we are inside collectively and as individuals. Only once we face that can we see Who God is…”

He proceeded to tell the tale of his descent into Scripture. He spoke more quickly than he had before, obviously having a great need to work through this all out loud. He spoke like Damian thought one of his clients might speak.

Eventually, he came to the topic of his recent wounds. Most of them would heal into quite thin scars, but a few would be more pronounced, according to Jonathan Crane.

He had performed this rite in secret the night before he had agreed to call the police. He had carried it out in an old bathtub in the apartment that he had been renting out there in the city.

He cleared his throat softly, the experience still so very fresh in his mind.

“I was… trying to lose my blood… to atone for our sins. Paul challenged me that… that I was not willing to lose blood to avoid sin. But I see now that I was just calling on my false gods with swords. I see now that those lines actually pushed me to it… I am no better than the priests of Ba’al that Elijah contested… But I still feel as though I can repent.” He sounded sad, confused, and truly sorry. Robin wondered if the feeling would last once he went to face trial. A lifetime sentence in prison was certainly a possibility, as was a lifetime sentence to Arkham. He made a mental note to keep track of the arguments for and against those options, as he knew they would arise.

“I have caused so much suffering in this world, young man. I have caused you… and the Batman so much grief.” His shoulders had slouched even though he looked serenely relieved. “Please tell him that I am so sorry, would you? Tell him… Thank you. Thank all of you for doing what you do. For being who you are. Thank you.” Crane looked up at him with remorseful tears in his eyes.

Damian could have suddenly got a case of the chills. If he were anyone else, he would have needed to clear his throat. This moment seemed quite tight. “I will tell him, sir. I give you my word.”

Crane seemed to hesitate for a moment, getting onto his knees.

“Could I ask one more favor from you? Please?” 

Robin waited.

“Could I pray with you? For our souls?”

Robin considered the prospect and then agreed. They both knew that their time was drawing short. Bed checks happened every hour on the hour.

Jonathan Crane prostrated himself on the floor at Robin’s feet, absorbed in what he was about to do. He cleared his throat.

“Dearest Merciful God in Heaven, please grant unto all those listening the beneficence of your charity. Please heal our deepest hearts as only the radiance of your finger can touch, and inspire our minds to the Transmissions of Your Holy Goodness that You have shared with all mankind, through so many various means.”

“Bless us in our collective travels and help us to accept the Harmony that You have planned for us. May we access Your glorious plans of redemption so that we may be clean and pure in being, as only You can make us to be.”

“Oh Resplendent Divinity, may we be aware of Your listening and Your watching so that we may see past the delusions of our cognition to join you in the ultimate truth and weight of our judgements as You truly experience them. Clear our resistance to You, oh Munificent Giver. Speak to us, so that we may hear You.”

The door opened and a nurse entered the room, having been careful to unlock the door quietly.

“Doctor Crane, you should be asleep. It’s really time for bed. Do you need something to help you sleep?” The staff there still referred to him as Doctor, at his request. They all knew full well that his practitioner’s license had been revoked the moment he had appeared on television confessing his identity as the Scarecrow.

He looked up at the nurse, not surprised to see that he was quite alone in the room. He sighed, smiling up at her kindly. She thought that it looked painful for him to do so. Kneeling like that may have been. His body was still very tender, his strength still weak. The three meals and a snack that the hospital provided were sincerely helping.

“Would you pray with me before I sleep? For just a moment?” He pleaded gently up at her.

Damian heard this request from up in the ceiling. He reflected on the fact that while the Scarecrow had been praying, he had felt a small thing slightly like what he had experienced with the Shaman in the Jungle. He wondered about that, and about prayer.

When they had concluded their words together and Crane had agreed to go to sleep, Robin moved silently to the roof and departed, not encountering Red Hood again on his route back to the Hotel. Back at the Hotel, Jon knew that Robin was on his way back. He decided to keep on with his practice anyway, smiling deeply, ready to be in Damian’s arms again.

Back in civilian attire, Damian found Jon meditating on the hearth by the bed. Not wanting to disturb him just yet, he stripped his gear before softly sliding into his lover’s lap, not resisting the temptation of being close with him again. He had considered many other options for their evening, but this seemed to be the best and most natural one.

Jon breathed in deeply and opened his eyes, greeted by his lover’s own staring back at him. He ran his hands up Damian’s back as they kissed.

“Welcome back.” Jon muttered tenderly. They were both tired, but admittedly still frisky. They were used to being tired sometimes. That was just part of the gig. Besides, Robin wanted to pay Superboy back for making him orgasm earlier.

In that moment, rubbing their skin against one another, comforting one another in the way that only lovers can, they both thought about how the rest of their night would go, and they both knew that Damian was going to get Jon’s dick before they would snuggle each other to sleep.

As they began to kiss and to get excited again, moaning into one another sweetly, saving the exchange and review of their experiences that night for in the morning when they would have to pack up and leave, Jon licked up the length of Damian’s neck, eliciting a moan from his partner. Jon smiled brightly. He was biting his lower lip again, looking playful. They were both hard.

“Hey, Dami? This time, just for fun… could you put your mask back on?”


	6. Lenses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Jon has a personal talk with his father before going to stay the night with Damian and the Teen Titans. Enjoy~

It was another great day for an outing, thought Jonathan Kent, this time accompanied by his parents as they attended the opening of a new art gallery in Metropolis. The gallery was having a seminar by a few famous painters and a poet. They had invited Damian, but he had been busy with other matters. He’d apologized for missing out.

So, here he was, knowing that his mother was going to get an interview or two, but he also knew that she could also write a couple of pieces about the exhibit for various magazines and news outlets. She was such a naturally curious person and such a good writer that her son and husband were always happy and flattered to go along with her on any outing like that. All of them had gotten to meet some very interesting people over the years because of her connections.

Jon saw many interesting works that day. He really liked abstract painting and expressionism, but one thing that caught his eye, because of the obvious relevance to his own life, was a sample of a series of works by Douglas Blanchard called “The Passion of Christ: A Gay Vision.” A few of the works were originals, but some of them were away on other exhibits, so there photographs of those works in their place.

Blanchard, an art professor somewhere, had wanted to depict the famous figure as a sort of normal person in the pictures, he found out. Jon was quite drawn to two works in particular: ‘Jesus Before the Soldiers’ and ‘Jesus Rises.’

The former image particularly resonated with him because of his recent experiences on the mission before the Smashing Pumpkins show. He ruminated in front of that picture for quite a while on the nature of vulnerability and about how his peers without super powers must feel. He found himself again feeling of his classmates, so unprepared to undertake anything like being kidnapped.

The latter painting caught his attention mostly for the Christ’s expression and for the halo around his head. He had seen some pictures of the iconic Superman in similar fashion, and those images were the source of a lot of self-reflection for the young Superboy. He wondered for a good amount of time before that painting about his own soul and intentions, and he wondered how enlightened he was being with the life that he had been given.

Meanwhile, Lois Lane had spotted another reporter, so they were avidly chatting away with one of the artists there for the seminar, and his father had spent much more time than either of them examining a pottery exhibit.

After moving on with his parents, they all discovered a section of Zen landscape paintings done mostly in black that Jon really liked. His mother seemed to really enjoy that exhibit a lot, too, so they spent some time there sharing about the works and meditating on the nature of thought and artwork.

Just before lunch, it came time for Lois to attend a presentation by one of the artists at the exhibit that day, but Jonathan asked his father if they could go talk outside while waiting for her to be through attending it. Clark happily agreed, curious himself about what their son would want to talk with him privately about.

The two men moved away from the direction of the ensuing crowd to a pond full of exotic fish. There was a railing that went all the way around the pond, protecting its waters and fauna from any potential exploration by guests to the museum. They picked a nice spot partially in the shade to have their conversation.

“Dad, could I talk to you about religion?” he asked innocently, watching the Koi fish swim in the pond. He had shared with his parents some of the things that had happened with himself and his boyfriend in these regards, so they were well aware that the two boys were engrossed in their studies on the topic. Clark was not a bit surprised that Jon was asking him about it. They had already talked about sexuality and dating after Jon and Damian had begun sleeping with one another, so it was only natural that he would want to talk about the next big thing in his life.

Clark smiled, never an imposing figure in civilian attire.

“Well, son, you know that I try to keep my perceptions from influencing other people too much, but I’m more than willing to talk with you about anything. You know that. What’s on your mind?”

Jon took a contemplative breath before starting.

“I have been wanting to ask you: why don’t you talk about your beliefs very much?” he asked, leaning back against the railing, feeling the coolness of the water pressing against him from this close. His father thought about it for a moment, adjusting his fake glasses on his face. He was smiling, much like his son.

“Growing up, the only time we would really turn the tv on was to watch the daily news and to watch Mr. Rogers’ Neighbourhood. I think that Mr. Rogers had some of the best ideas about personal religion that anyone modern has had. He never forced anyone to believe in anything. He was kind. He was sincere. He did the best that he could to treat everybody with the respect and care that they deserved. He certainly kept some things to himself, but that can take a lot of strength to do.

“Then I grew up, and I became someone that people look up to. I recognize that that’s quite the responsibility, so I’ve tried to live my life in such a way that I could hopefully inspire a lot of different people to believe in something, whatever that something might be for them.”

“What do you believe, Dad?” he asked, his precocious eyes glittering in the sunlight, watching the older man.

Clark hunched over with his arms on the railing in front of them to meet Jonathan at eye level. He thought for a moment. Jon admired that habit so much and always had.

"I truly believe that we have to let other people make their own decisions. That can be hard sometimes when some decisions harm people. It can also be hard because we can often have the responsibility to stop people from harming others.

"Ultimately though, we all have to make our own choices. I think there's a real danger in deciding that we suddenly know everything, or that there's always an easy answer to life, so we have to be flexible and stay open to what our lives bring us.

“Life's a big place. We must do what we can to keep learning and to keep growing. We can't really do that if we're busy thinking we know everything or if we’re busy having too many opinions about things that we just might not know enough about."

Jon considered this.

“So do you believe in a particular religion more than any others?” He played with his shoe with his foot, listening, looking out at the crowd from behind his own fake lenses.

“I think that probably all religions, like all people, have something valid to teach the world. But religion ultimately falls into the hands of people, and people can have really bad intentions or really bad ideas about things. Sometimes those people hurt so many other people that they eclipse the message that they profess to believe in and follow.”

Jon recognized that his father’s answer did not explicitly answer his question, and he was okay with that. He respected his father’s privacy, knowing super well that Clark Kent was the type of person that lived his ideals even if he didn’t talk about them much. He hugged his dad in that moment, Clark hugging him back. His dad asked him what he believed.

“I guess I really don’t have much of an opinion about it. I’m still learning a lot.” he said, smiling.

They enjoyed a nice moment together and went up to a vendor to get ice cream while they waited for his mother to finish with the presentation she was attending. Lois returned to tell them all about it before the three of them moved onto getting lunch and then attending the next part of the seminar.

Jonathan Kent took a moment before they left the Koi pond to silently appreciate his family. He loved them very much.

~~~~~

Damian had drank in the smell and sight of the crisp, clean clothes that his partner had been wearing when he had snuck up on him, no doubt using super speed to try and get the edge on him. He breathed in Jon’s scent and looked deeply into his eyes as they embraced tightly.

As much as he had wanted to go down on Jon the moment they saw each other again, he had restrained himself, mostly because they had nowhere to be alone. To be fair, they had jerked off with each other via webcam more than twice, so it wasn’t like Damian was in heat or anything. He just really enjoyed seeing his partner again.

Damian knew that Jon was enjoying the sounds of the train as they travelled towards Teen Titan Tower. He had been staying there for a while, helping them on several missions. With a recent villain safely behind bars, and with Robin off to another mission over the weekend, the team had invited him to spend the night at the tower again. Damian proposed that he would only stay again if he could bring Jon. They had all agreed that his condition was acceptable.

It had been three weeks since their date at the concert, and the two had truly missed one another. Damian had been slowly learning to participate in his father’s business dealings since Christmas, and he’d also been balancing that with the missions that he was going on. Jon had gotten to go to an art museum with his parents and had then gone out to a baseball game with them and some of his classmates the next weekend. With all of that going on, the two had only been able to call for a while here and there, and even sparingly at that. Jon had rescued some people from a burning building one night, and he had confronted a petty robber on another night.

That had been it for him for crime fighting. He had been continuing his studies in Eastern Religion and in his school subjects, so that was keeping him mostly busy, what with his chores that he still did on top of all of that.

Jon had talked him into taking the rail line, not actually going straight to Teen Titan Tower, but going instead to meet Raven on campus. She was already taking college-level courses on law at a local institution. She had gotten very high marks on her entrance exam, enough so that she had received several scholarships to attend.

It seemed like everyone, hero work aside, was busy learning something new.

This was no exception for him either. Damian was most excited to tell Jon about his studies. He had been learning about the Rosicrucians and about various sects and groups throughout history. He had also been studying a man called Origen who had taught about reincarnation and apocatastasis (a restoration of all things in the end that even included the redemption of Satan) in the early days of the Christian church. Origen was embraced by the theologians of his era but later condemned as heretical. Some who had been viewed as heretical in their day had later been exonerated. It all was oddly fascinating.

Damian had also been reading about the idea of gnosis and of various Gnostic movements, which seemed to revolve around the idea that reality was corrupt, ruled by sinister universal beings, and that human souls were conditioned by the spirits of the planets towards 'worldliness' and sin and so needed to be rescued from this corruption.

Then there were sects that seemed to synthesize out of many traditions, like Manichaeism, which had seemed to run its course and then perished.

He had read about coups for power, about theological societies and movements that had come and gone, about distortions in doctrine and understanding, and about various councils and figures that had transformed the image of the Christ from a loving one into a more war-like Colonial one built not on love, understanding, and tolerance, but on rigorous social laws and exoteric traditions.

He began telling Jon about the various historical origins of the Buddha, one Siddhartha Gautama. He explained that there was enough recent evidence to suggest that this man was possibly of Scythian descent from somewhere in the region of Iran. They had been a semi-nomadic shamanistic people who had resisted the Persian Empire and had played important roles in the deaths of influential figures of the time.

He went on to explain that though Lao Tzu of the Taoist tradition was seemingly a separate historical figure, there was a possibility that he and Gautama were the same person. Jon had perked up at this, obviously admiring Damian for his detective skills.

“See, in ancient China, Tzu was an honorific title given to gurus and their ilk, so his name was really Lao Tan. But in that time period, Lao would have been pronounced more like ‘Gau’ and ‘Tan’ would have most likely been pronounced more like ‘Tam’ and would have had an ‘a’ at the end of it that they later culturally dropped. Isn’t that really cool?”

He and Jon were both standing on the train, waiting for their stop. It would be a while, so they rode along trading ideas and recent discoveries. Jon did a lot of listening at times.

Damian went on to explain that Buddhism then may have actually been more in response to the dominance of Zoroastrianism and the Persian Empire than in response to or out of Hinduism. Taoism may have resulted out of the Buddha's old age, which he spent in exile from Iran.

He divulged that the Zarathustran beliefs centered more on an epic battle between pure good and pure evil, and that some pure elite entities preceding our current reality would some day endow our whole cosmological system with this same perfection in time. He said that this mirrored a lot of what he saw in Abrahamic teachings (like Christian, Jewish, and Muslim teachings).

Jon inched closer and wrapped his arm around Damian. Damian did the same, not missing a beat. Jon’s smile had been very slowly growing in affection, and it was quickly blooming quite in full.

After talking more about Zoroaster, he moved back into the theory of the Buddha being Iranian and went on to explain that even the word “Siddhartha” was the Iranian word for ‘power of truth.’ Jon’s eyes twinkled his brilliant blue.

“So, in the time period of the works that you’ve been reading, it’s possible that the words for Tao and Dhamma, or Dharma, have their origin in the same word and are actually the same thing.

“I like Jason Reza Jorjani’s take on all of this.” He paused before going on. “But the other day, I was reading this Joseph Campbell book and--” Damian said, cut off by a kiss on the lips from Jon. He gripped his boyfriend and kissed him back, smiling himself. He looked at Jon questioningly. “What?”

Jon laughed sweetly.

“You’re so cute when you babble like that.” Jon said, blushing slightly. Damian noticed that he had moved even closer. They were practically snuggling.

If Damian were someone else, he would have looked flustered. Jon seemed to find this very attractive.

“I do not babble.” he replied in open defiance. Jon giggled and kissed him again softly. Damian considered things for a moment.

“Alright, fine. I was babbling,” he said happily. “But I only babble around you.” He kissed Jon again and resumed what he had been saying.

Jonathan Kent listened happily and seemed to enjoy their ride together, straightening his faux glasses on his face. Damian recognized the look and was happy to be looked at as a dork. His being a dork made Jon smile.

~~~~~

In time, they made it to where Raven and Beast Boy were attending University.

Sweet sunshine poured down onto the campus, a large pool with a fountain in the center of it singing melodious notes that Jon enjoyed as they approached. It was nice to see Damian relaxed, though he could tell that the recent work with the Titans had been demanding. Damian did not seem to have the ease around others that Jon did, though he had tried his best to share this ability with his lover. However, Damian did seem to do a lot better with social interactions when he was around, so that was nice. And he still seemed revived somehow from his visit to South America.

At any rate, they always seemed to be better when they were around one another. Damian had even convinced him to stow his fake glasses away in his pocket now that they were meeting up with the other Titans. At the last moment though, Damian had taken the glasses and put them onto his own face, smiling at Jon from behind them.

Just then, an obviously green bordie collie barked at the two boys and bounded over to them, giving up the frisbee it had been chasing, much to the chigrine of the young man and woman throwing it to him.

The collie pranced over to Jon, happily barking. Jon, laughing, knelt down and started complementing the good boy, petting him around the neck and ears. The collie licked his face and neck and barked happily again, tail wagging excitedly. Jon laughed again.

Damian had unconsciously crossed his arms and was glowering playfully down at the scene. The border collie looked up innocently at the authoritarian figure towering over him.

“You jealous, bird boy?” the dog said in a high-pitched, mischievous voice, waggling its eyebrows.

Jon looked up at Damian and laughed, rubbing under the dog’s chin as it transformed into a green tabby cat and leapt into Jon’s lap, purring.

“Awwww, that’s so cute, Beastboy.” Jon cooed, still petting the Titan.

“I’m not so much jealous as I am concerned for Jon’s health. We don’t know where you’ve been.” Damian said, pushing Jon’s glasses up his nose in classic anime fashion.

The other two boys laughed, the cat pushing its butt high up in the air for Damian to look at before transforming into a green robin and flying around Jon’s head. The bird landed on Damian’s shoulder.

“Ohhh, man, I so envy you doing that out in public, Beast Boy.” Jon said, standing up tall and nobley. Damian eyed him up and down before looking sideways at the bird on his shoulder.

“Easy to do when you don’t have any shame.” Damian teased.

“Awww, come on, dude, I’m bright green. What do I care what people think?” Beast Boy said, turning into himself on Damian’s shoulder. Damian, who had been expecting it, quickly tried to dodge out from under the other boy’s weight even as BeastBoy wrapped his legs tightly around his chest.

“Besides,” he continued, wrestling with Damian, “You know the paparazzi are paid off to leave us alone when we’re not fighting bad guys. They’ve gotta be, or I’d never be left alone.”

Jon giggled at his slanted, snaggle-toothed smile. He’d always liked Beast Boy, even if they’d never been super close.

“My parents might be pretty upset if I just suddenly started using my powers in public like you.” Jon replied.

Garfield Logan was wearing an open, purple plaid button-up collared shirt over a black t-shirt with purple jeans that had black stripes up the sides. His tennis shoes were purple and black, and his green hair was longer and wilder than Jon had seen it before. It did not rival Jon’s by far, but he still noted how much it had grown. And so had Gar. He was a bit taller these days.

Several college-aged kids had stopped to watch and laugh at Damian and Beast Boy’s wrestling but departed as he climbed down from Jon’s boyfriend’s shoulders. He sauntered up to the younger hero, placing an arm around his shoulders. 

“Hey, your parents want you to make your own decisions. You make them proud, man.” he said, making Jon blush a little. Damian cleared his throat and Beast Boy hugged Jon tightly before springing at Robin to hug him, laughing. Damian let him. It was just easier that way.

“I’m sure that you make your family proud, too.” he said, making Gar smile brightly.

“Doing what? Lounging around campus all day playing fetch??” Damian joked.

“Heyyyy, I’m getting my degree in ecology!” Beast Boy protested playfully. Damian cast a look of doubt at him. The green boy balked. “Slowly.” he said. They all laughed at that just as Raven started coming their way, stowing books away in the bad slung over her shoulder. “Raven!” he called, seeing Jon waving over at her, before turning into a bird again and flying over to greet her.

They saw him transform back into himself while landing in front of her. They kissed and headed over. They could hear her scolding him about using his gifts in public. The two boys snickered.

When she arrived at their spot, they all exchanged pleasantries before Raven explained that they were a bit early. She still needed to speak to a professor before she left for the day.

They sauntered across the campus, sharing stories and recent adventures, making their way to the psychology department across campus. Raven, as Jon understood it, was taking a lot of different classes. He knew that she must be very dedicated to her studies to be able to crime fight and get a degree at the same time, especially a degree that seemed so demanding.

She was ultimately going for a doctorate in criminology with a minor in rehabilitation, along with her degree in law, but he knew that she was studying other subjects, too. They were early to arrive at her professor’s building, so he described to her the experience that he’d had when he had observed some of what Damian and Crane had spoken about in their encounter.

“It sounds to me like you were Remote Viewing. Have you heard that term before?” she asked kindly.

When Jon had first met her, she had seemed cold and distant, but nowadays, she had softened somehow, and he found her to be considerate and compassionate. He found that he really enjoyed her company. Damian would have told him that he liked everyone’s company.

He told her he didn’t know the term.

“I have some books about it back at the Tower by Joe McMoneagle and Lyn Buchanan that you could have. And there are some interviews with Russel Targ that I could share with you online if you’d like.” she said, just barely smiling. Jon felt her warmth, and her heartbeat. He brightened. 

“Yeah, that would be great! I would like to try to do it again.” he said. She considered him for a moment.

“That shouldn’t be hard, especially since you’ve already done it once. The CIA disclosed a lot of information about their covert psychic spying projects a few decades ago. There’s a lot of information out there from Ingo Swann on how to do it. I’ve used it a few times on some of our missions, though I prefer other actions.” she said. “The CIA is still conducting experiments and employing the practice. It is supposed to be accessible to just about anyone.”

Jon felt closer with this young woman already. She seemed ethereal to him, almost, like a faery that had lived a long time ago but was still down to earth and someone he could relate to.

With that, she excused herself to go speak with her professor since students were streaming out of the building that they were standing near, a good indication that a class had let up. Damian smiled at him from behind Jon’s glasses, making an expression that made him laugh. He decided to check in with him and Beast Boy to see what they were talking about.

Over the din of students and his friends, however, Jon started to hear something else that bothered him. He was not sure if he had just not been paying attention to it or if it had just started.

Hundreds of feet away, on a small platform, was a young man with greasy hair, tattoos down his arms, and a dark expression behind his own thick glasses that did not quite twinkle in the daylight. They were black-rimmed and heavy, like the man’s voice.

He was wearing a suit. In his hands were a Bible and a microphone. He was preaching about the fires of Hell.

Beast Boy groaned audibly when he noticed that his companions were listening to him. “Not this clown again.”

Their little group had turned to observe the man, as had several other small groups of people. Jon saw other students speeding up to obviously get out of hearing range of the man. It looked like this was something that must happen frequently.

On the man's speaker were the words 'Assembly of Truth.' 

Before long, he had jumped into a long tangent about 'the sins of institutionalized learning' and how 'they were doomed to hell if they didn't repent.' Beast Boy looked like he wanted to vomit. Damian looked intrigued but not happy. The man went on like this for several minutes, Gar covering his ears and making a whining noise.

“Why can’t this guy just get a life?” he said loudly, looking quite annoyed. The other two boys watched. Jon was concerned about the onlookers. He wondered what they made of this overzealous person.

“The corruption of our youth is unacceptable! Teaching them to choose their genders! Teaching the homosexual agenda and propogating sin! Repent, lest this nation be destroyed! You need Jesus in your life! Sinners! Queers! Turn away from your wickedness!” He declared, passion burning in his eyes. His glasses sunk low on his nose as he spoke, obvious in his convictions, however sick they seemed to be.

Gar had had enough. In a flash of movement, he had turned into a sheltie and was running the distance to the man, barking. Damian reached out for Jon’s hand, which he gratefully took, being led to the scene by the older boy, who looked as if he had swallowed something rather unpleasant. Jon felt that Damian would love to have words with this man privately.

Beast Boy reached him first by far and was barking up at him, bouncing on his hind legs. Without much warning, he jumped up and took the man’s microphone. He ran away with it, dragging the small speaker behind him. The man yelled at the dog and raised his Bible, declaring that the truth could not be suppressed. Some giggled at the antics of the dog.

At this point, his Bible glowed black and leapt out of his hands into the nearest trash can. He yelled angrily about witchcraft and demons. “You all need Jesus! You are going straight to hell!” he told the watching crowd, which had grown. Some in the crowd laughed. Some, like Jon, looked sympathetic. Someone in the crowd booed him.

Jon let go of his boyfriend’s hand and went to retrieve the man’s Bible from the trash can just as Raven was joining them. He retrieved the book from the trash and brushed a wrapper off of it, holding it out to the man that was walking over to him. He looked foreboding.

The man snatched the Bible and laid his hands on Jon. Jon saw Damian flinch, but Raven held him back gently. Campus security had arrived and was walking over to the pair of them.

“Christ almighty, look down in Your glory and save this wretched soul from his homosexuality! I saw him holding that boy’s hand. He has been confused by the abominations of these times! Caught up in the idolatry of the flesh! Please forgive this young, gone-astray soul for his lack of chastity and for his misguided choices!” The man had been speaking to the sky, but he turned down to look at Jon, who stood there in awe of his brashness.

“Hey, please don’t shout. I’m sorry about your microphone.” Jon said.

The man bristled. “You think that it is I that need your help, but it is you that needs the help of Jesus! Repent of your ways before it is too late. You have to see what a mockery you’re making of His Word. What a life of evil you’re living.”

“Alright, break it up. Break it up.” Campus security had arrived, pulling the man’s arm away from Jon. He let it fall away sadly, watching Jon with a piercing, burning look that told Jon that this man believed deeply that he was hellbound. “How many times do we have to tell you that you can’t just preach here? It’s not allowed on campus. You don’t even have a permit.”

“These are dark times that we live in when the Word of God cannot be preached in public.” the man retorted, turning to look to the security guard.

“Look, buddy, if you show up here again, I’m going to have to call the police, okay? You’re disturbing the public, and I’ve told you before to knock it off.” The guard, a man in his forties, had white hairs mixed into his short flat-top haircut, and he wore a short beard. Jon could tell that he was really trying to be patient.

The young man with the black glasses and troubled look brushed all of this off and made his way back to his platform to collect it. Gar had rejoined Raven and Damian. The three were walking over to them.

“I’m really sorry about that, kid. This guy’s such a nuisance. Whatever he said, just take it with a grain a salt, okay? Not everyone has sense these days.” The guard set his hand gently on Jon’s shoulder.

“Thank you, sir. I really appreciate what you do for the campus. I’m sorry that this guy keeps disturbing people. Why do you think he does that?” Jon asked, looking up at the man who was easily six and a half feet tall. He had a bit of a paunch.

“You know, I wonder that every time he comes out.” The guard smiled, lowering his hand away. “I think maybe he’s just lonely. Or just scared. Or confused. He wants to be important, you know? Has nobody to talk to, is my guess, so he comes here and shows off.”

Jon wondered at the words. He knew that Cyborg had arrived because of his super hearing, and he soon heard a honk confirming so. The two Teen Titans turned and waved at him. Damian, who had been watching the preacher man breaking down his platform, looked at Jon.

“Anyway, don’t let him trouble ya. I’m gonna go have a talk with him right now. Have a great day, okay?” He smiled at the group apologetically.

Jon thanked him again, as did Damian. Jon’s partner looked at him questioningly, obviously concerned, so Jon smiled. They had a nice lunch to go to. He gave the preacher one last look before turning away, taking Damian’s hand again.

~~~~~

While Koriand’r (Starfire) had gone on to work for the U.N. and the Earth League of Interplanetary Diplomacy (ELID, for short), Cyborg had been taking contracts from the U.S. military and NASA to work on the much-needed energy alternatives that it seemed the whole world was scrambling to find. They were all getting older, and they knew that soon they would have to hand the mantle of Teen Titans off to a younger generation of heroes, so in the meantime, he had struck out on his own developing high-capacity alternative energy sources and technologically advanced prosthetics that were leaps and bounds ahead of other technology in the field.

LexCorp had also been involved in similar dealings of newer energy sources, but according to Cyborg, had a long way to go before they stumbled onto some of Cyborg’s mathematical solutions. He had been living in a few different upscale apartments, teaching classes online on advanced physics, thermodynamics, and quantum mechanics.

Jon had not seen much of the aging teen hero lately, but noted the change in character dynamics in the dark-skinned cyborg the moment he pulled up in his technologically-advanced Titan car. He seemed a little more pragmatic to the young Superboy.

The older boy smiled at them all and waved, leaning out of the driver’s side window to beckon to them all to the car.

“What was that all about? Was that bible-thumper harassing the campus again?” he asked. Jon felt bad at that. He and Damian had really been enjoying their studies.

“Hey, the Bible’s not all bad.” he said. Cyborg looked sorry and beckoned them all into the car, asking what had happened. Beast Boy gladly filled him in, grumpy that the guy had been back.

Jon noted then some changes to Cyborg’s appearance. The colors in his robotic parts seemed darker and more muted than the last time he had seen him. He kind of missed the sun glinting off of his shiny chrome parts, but he was glad to know that his friend was having so much success in his life. They all deserved it.

They all piled into the car and began to make their way to the fancy table that Cyborg had reserved for them. On the way, Jon talked with Raven about what she said were called the ‘siddhis,’ abilities in Hinduism that were said to be awakened by certain spiritual teachings.

She, Jon, and Damian sat in the backseat, Damian and Cyborg talking about unified field theory and the mathematics of probability. They appeared to be picking up a conversation that they had been having previously. Beast Boy jammed out to a song in the passenger’s seat, playing the air guitar and drumming on the dashboard.

Raven talked with him about the siddhi of Aparigraha (or a different one, Dūradarśanam) and its theoretical connection to Remote Viewing. She said that there were some that believed that while the individual soul was evolving, the collective soul was also evolving, benefitted by the choices of each individual coming into an awakening of sorts. So, she reasoned, some abilities were coming more to the forefront as the human race continued to collectively learn and grow. 

She also mentioned that many famous Christian monks had been recorded as apparently displaying siddhis of their own, things like advandvam: a tolerance of heat, cold and other dualities; and para citta ādi abhijñatā: knowing the minds and hearts of others. Many monks of many traditions supposedly levitated while they prayed or meditated, so these things were pretty common.

She told him that many Christians like Thomas Merton even accepted that Christianity was not the only religion with Truth to it. Jon liked the sound of that, and he made a mental note to look into Thomas Merton more since he had already come across some of his translations somewhere.

When they arrived at the restaurant and got settled, Raven and Robin spent quite a bit of time talking about Jonathan Crane’s case, which they had definitely been doing all week. Robin was getting involved in Crane’s legal proceedings, and he had asked Raven for help on that and on a new project that he was heading up. Jon knew that this new project was why they were going on their mission tomorrow.

He talked with Cyborg and Beast Boy about their recent lives, finding out that Gar had spent some time recently with Aqualad fishing out whale hunters and shark killers. Gar would be going on a trip in a couple of weeks with Blue Beetle to Africa to stalk out big cat hunters and other illegal poaching activities. This somehow led them to talking about the Irwins, so Gar and Jon happily exchanged information on the wildlife sanctuaries that they had been to while also talking about what they thought about the famous Irwins. It was a great time. They had a back room all to themselves, and even though Cyborg had been the one to book their reservations, Damian paid the whole bill and told them all not to worry about it.

Back at the Tower, the three boys planned to run through a complicated training routine while Jon accepted Raven’s offer to meditate with her. He was excited that they were connecting, and she seemed pleased to share what she knew about more esoteric topics with him. He smiled and blew Damian a kiss as the energetic boys ran towards the stairs into lower parts of the Tower.

Damian caught his kiss and laid it on his heart. Jon smiled brightly at this, blushing in delight.

~~~~~

Damian crept back up the stairs like a trained ninja, carefully turning the knob of Raven’s door without so much as a whisper.

He smiled as he came upon Raven and Superboy meditating in her room. They were both sitting cross-legged about two feet above her floor.

He had thought that he had felt her energy open up as they had been training downstairs, and he had no doubt that he had been right. Several bright, large crystals were hovering around the pair, drenched in that strange black light that he associated with Raven’s magic, which he knew to be quite powerful. He was always secretly glad that she wasn’t a villain.

Sweaty from the workout, towel draped around his neck, he decided to leave the two to it, not wanting to disturb them. He was pretty sure that Raven was aware of his presence anyway as she muttered incantations. Jon seemed lost in deep thought, though he also seemed to be paying attention to something internal that nobody but Jon could see.

He decided to go take a brief shower while the other two men ordered pizzas for the group. Their training had ran long. His muscles ached with the familiar and welcome presence of hard work.

He closed Raven’s door quietly, making his way to the hot showers. He was joined by a noisy Beast Boy shortly after. They talked about the training and got clean together before joining the rest of the group in the living room. Jon was telling something to Raven as they both emerged from her room together. Beast Boy went to her. They kissed gently.

The rest of the night passed pleasantly. They all ate pizza together. They enjoyed each other’s company while they could. Even Damian would admit that it was nice that they could all be together for a little while with as crazy as their lives could be.

Cyborg was the first to leave. He had only been there to help on the previous mission, so he would have to get back to his many contracts with the government and Nasa. After that, it wasn’t long before Beast Boy said that he was going for an evening flight before kissing Raven on the cheek and turning into a raven that quickly flew out of a nearby open window.

Raven excused herself to her studies, so that left just Jon and Damian.

They both knew that other young heroes had been staying at the Tower, but they were off on a mission of their own, due to return the next day in the evening. Damian and Jon would be gone by then.

The two decided to retire to Robin’s temporary quarters in the guest room together.

As the door closed behind them, the two boys felt a hush fall over them. Though there was certainly a lot of energy in the building, they were quieted by their own thoughts and experiences that day. Plus, it was the first time that they had been alone since their time at the hotel.

Though Jon was a sunny, stable person, Damian felt that something was bothering him, and he expressed that as the two lay in bed facing each other. Jon considered for a moment, enjoying Damian’s stroking of his cheeks and hair. If Jon were Beast Boy, he may have been purring.

“Wellllll...” Jon started, “I’ve just been wondering about us.”

Damian gave him his full attention, pulling him close. He adored Jon, and he wanted to share everything that he could with him. Opening up like he had with the younger boy was something that he honestly treasured. He wanted to be there for him no matter what.

“It’s just... Everyone is growing up. Even us. I’ve just been wondering: what’s going to happen to us?” he asked, looking into his lover’s eyes. Damian shuddered internally. Seeing Jon so innocent and vulnerable always tugged on his heartstrings more than anyone knew.

He thought about it for a while. Jon kissed his chin and whimpered up at him with puppy-dog eyes, making Damian’s heart melt. He smiled at Jon and rubbed his back.

“I don’t know the future, Jon, but-” he steeled himself, pushing a leg between the other boy’s legs. He so enjoyed Jon’s warmth, not just in body, but in personality. He admired him for it. “I can honestly say that I cannot imagine myself doing this hero thing without you. I couldn’t really do it with anyone else.” He saw his partner brighten at this, rubbing Damian’s chest.

“But what are we going to do when we get older?”Jon asked. Damian smiled gently.

“I love you, Jon. I have no plans to stop dating you.” He thought for a moment. “If the time comes that we’re no longer good for one another, then that will be then, but for now… For now, I just want to love you and hold you and tell you how much I want you in my life. You’re my best friend, farm boy. I’ve never been this close with anyone. Why wouldn’t I fight for that?” He looked into Jon’s eyes, almost wanting reassurance from the other.

Jon whimpered, keying Damian up. He loved when Jon did that.

“But what if we grow apart?” his eyes were round and sincere. Damian’s eyebrows raised in the middle as he pulled the younger boy close and kissed his forehead.

“I’ll be here for you no matter what, okay? As sure as my father is Batman.”

Jon nuzzled his face into Damian’s neck, rubbing his chest.

“Did something happen that we haven’t talked about?” he asked. It wasn’t like Jon to keep secrets. That was much more Damian’s thing.

Jon proceeded to explain to Damian that his dad, Superman, had recently been captured on a mission while they had been out of town. The villain had used kryptonite to trap him, and only by the intervention of the Justice League was he able to be rescued. He’d been spending a lot more time with the family recently because of it, taking a bit of time away from hero work to recover.

For them, these sorts of things were just life as they knew it, so he hadn’t wanted to bother Damian with it. He wasn’t even sure if he was bothered by it, but he guessed that he really had been, especially after letting himself be kidnapped like he had. Despite everything he knew about his life, and despite everything he had learned, it had made him worry.

They talked for a while about that. Mostly Jon talked, Damian making it a point to just listen. He did what he could to console the teen, but he knew that a big part of that was just listening. He told Jon that he could share anything with him at any time. He would never judge him.

Jon’s sadness, though subtle, seemed to pervade the room just underneath his usually flexible and vibrant vibes. It seemed softly present under the energy that hung in the air presumably from Raven’s daily meditations and from the other heroes’ routines and high energy.

Jonathan Kent was a tough young man, so Damian truly felt for his lover and his worries. They both knew that danger was a constant part of their lives. Occasionally, they had to confront that and deal with it as new situations presented themselves. This was not the first time that they had struggled with that.

He felt so warm with Jon pressed against him so tightly. He gently rubbed the other’s back, admitting to himself that he sometimes forgot that Jon was still essentially a child. Even Damian himself really wasn’t that old. He kicked himself for pushing Jon so hard on their last mission. He had been so pissed that those criminals had stripped him, and he expressed as much to Jon.

“No, it’s not that, really. I’m really glad that we went on that last mission together. We really helped all those kids.” Jon said, planting a kiss against Damian’s chest.

“What else is on your mind, then, baby? You know I’m here for you.” he said gently, dimming the lights. He took off his shirt and pulled the cool sheets over the two of them, snuggling back up with his mate.

“I know it’s silly, but- do you think we really could be doing wrong? I’ve been watching some preachers on tv lately, and some of them really seem to think it’s horrible to be gay.” he looked up at Damian gently. “Do you think we’re really doing the right thing being together like this?”

Damian held Jon’s cheek and kissed him gently on the lips. Jon kissed him back. Damian supposed that it was perfectly normal to be questioning things at this phase in his life. He himself had been answering a lot of really interesting questions with himself lately, reading so many Holy Books. They really made oneself turn inward and reflect. He knew that Jon was experiencing some of that with the Texts that he had been reading.

He brushed a bit of hair out of Jon’s eyes and got very serious.

“I think being gay is just fine.” he said, feeling his own chest unclench somewhere. Maybe he had been needing to hear that, even if the words came from himself. “Sunshine, if you would have seen Jonathan Crane… if you would have talked with him, you would understand. That guy today was a jerk. He didn’t care about anyone but himself. Not in the way that Crane did… Crane was… haunting.” He remembered briefly the scars that must now cover almost every inch of Crane’s body from the neck down.

He rubbed Jon’s side, feeling the younger one tremble against him. Jon was getting aroused, despite his doubts. Damian thought about their whole life together up until that point. He thought about everything that they had been through together, and he thought about all of the times that they had had each other’s backs. He thought about why he loved Jonathan in the first place, and how he had gradually fallen for him over the years. He thought about how amazing the last year had been with him. Jon also appeared to be thinking.

“I will tell you something for sure: there is no way that any Divine force in this or any cosmos could look at you and not feel every bit of the love that I feel for you, Jonathan Kent. Anyone who could call this wrong doesn’t know what they’re talking about.”

Jon whimpered again, making Damian’s stomach turn with affection. “Ooooh, Damiaaaan, do you really think so? Do you really feel that way about me?”

Damian didn’t hold back his blushing. He nodded and kissed Jon’s hand, which he pulled up tenderly with his own. “Of course. I’m powerless not to feel this way around you. You’re beautiful. Every bit of you.”

Jon held his lower lip in his teeth before kissing Damian pressingly on the lips. They started to kiss and to run their hands over one another. Jon eventually wiggled out of his pants and started to grope Damian, which made them both pant and moan softly.

When Jon started to remove his own shirt, Damian held his arm gently.

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to.” He held his partner’s arm. “I know this all moved pretty fast once I acted on my feelings, so just know that I see you as so much more than sex. You mean so much to me.” He paused. “Are you feeling better? We can just cuddle if you’d like.” He wanted so badly to comfort him. He wanted Jonathan to feel loved.

Jon kissed Damian gently before taking his shirt off. Damian traced Jon’s ribs with his fingertips, making Jon shiver. His bosom was so warm, feelings turning over and over because of Jon’s tenderness with him.

“I guess I just needed to hear you say that this was all still okay with you. I just wanted to make sure that you still want me.” Jon said softly, running his hand up and down Damian’s ribs. Damian sighed relaxedly and let himself shiver. He saw Jon’s dick twitch at that. He smiled bashfully.

“I always want you.” he said, pulling Jon in for a kiss, wrapping a hand firmly around Jon’s cock. He started stroking it up and down in his methodical manner, rubbing his thumb over his boyfriend’s leaking tip.

Jon moaned and ran his fingertips down Damian’s chest. Damian shivered again, really letting go. He lifted his head back to expose his neck.

“Bite me?” he said. Jon happily complied. 

With Damian’s dick starting to leak precum, Jon moved down on Damian, smiling up at him before taking it in his mouth. Damian squirmed for Jon, whimpering back at him. Jon moaned around his cock, bobbing his head up and down. He scratched gently down Damian’s abs and hips. He felt so submissive with Jon. He’d never experienced what he felt for Jon with anyone else in his life.

Jon continued to suck up and down on Damian’s cock, licking at his head and balls. Then, taking charge, he sucked on two of his fingers and worked one inside of Damian’s hole. Damian panted and begged at Jon by name, not specifying anything, but needing to say his name aloud. Jon fingered him for some time before kissing his cock and lifting Damian’s legs. The older boy quickly wrapped them gently around Jon’s torso, pulling him closer.

“I’m so yours, farm boy. Please take me. Please make me yours.” he pleaded, hearing the sincerity in his voice. This seemed to shift something in Jon, who got closer to Damian’s face before kissing him firmly on the mouth.

“We can belong to each other, Dami. I’m all yours, too.”

With that, Jon began to sink his steely member into Damian. Damian shivered and pulled at the stronger male, wanting more. He bucked softly into Jon’s hips, forcing him in deeper. They panted and moaned, kissing and biting at one another as Jon pulled out and pushed back in firmly but gently, filling Damian with precum.

They stayed like that for a long time, riding the rhythm of each other’s thrusts, Damian playing with Jon’s ears and running his fingers through his hair. He had the feeling at one point that Superboy was looking at his heart in his chest with his x-ray vision, also watching his own dick pump in and out of Damian at other times. They made many love noises at one another.

The young Wayne ran his fingertips down Jon’s front. Jon started to buck his hips harder, ramming firmly into Damian’s ass with each thrust, burying himself thoroughly into the other. Damian eventually started to feel the heat building in his body. The room reeked of their sex.

“Aaaah, come in me, Superboy.” he panted, egging Jon on. He had his hands firmly wrapped on Damian’s hips. Jon moaned and picked up the pace even more. Damian’s eyes went wide. He arched his back, feeling so close. He moaned Jon’s name, cumming all over himself in large waves.

While he was cumming, he felt Jon bury himself inside of him and start to let loose his load. Damian twitched at every spurt of Jon’s cock, feeling each shot inside of him. He was so relieved to be full of his lover’s seed. He loved this, and he loved Jon all the more.

His partner rested his forehead against Damian, still pumping dregs of sperm inside him. They panted together, looking one another in the eyes before kissing slowly.

After they had calmed down, heart rates returning to normal, Jon licked up Damian’s cum from on his chest. They kissed and laughed before deciding to take a quick shower together. While Jon went ahead to turn on the water, Damian leaned down and fished Jon’s glasses out of his discarded pants so they wouldn’t get stepped on, placing them on the nightstand next to their bed before joining him for a steamy shower.


	7. Seeds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Damian and Jon go on a mission to meet with Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn. A press release is held several weeks later. Enjoy~

Superboy woke slowly, hanging on to the last remnants of the dream that he had been having. He had taken to remembering the events of his day backwards before bed every night, a practice geared towards clearing the mind. He had found that his dreams had been noticeably more vivid since starting to do this.

Wrapped up around him was the snuggly figure of Damian Wayne, his loving boyfriend. Memories of the previous day slowly started to fill Jon’s mind, but he decided that he did not quite want to wake up yet. He wanted to enjoy the moment of being held by the awesome Robin, someone whom he had admired since childhood.

He laid his own arms over the arms that were enclosing his torso, noticing his morning wood pressing against Damian’s underwear (he had happened to have been wearing it). He took note of their breathing together and delighted in Damian’s body heat. As he remembered their shower last night, and the talk that they had engaged in, he pressed against his partner, taking care to move easily and lightly. He laid like that for some time, warm and happy.

He remembered Damian’s passionate words the night before, and his heart fluttered. He found himself pressing his rear into Damian’s hard package, wiggling his hips a bit, breathing in his lover’s scent. He kissed the darker boy’s arms, causing him to stir with a sharp inhale.

The young Wayne pulled him close and kissed the back of his neck and shoulders, pressing his erection against the younger boy, waking up. Jon could feel him pulling up sharply out of sleep. He reminded Jon of a tiger, or some other great big cat, alert spontaneously, no doubt from years and years of habituation in his youth.

Damian seemed to shake sleep from himself, but then lulled, easing back into a relaxed state as he realized where he was and who he was with. Jon moaned gently as Damian lowered his arms a bit on his torso and pulled him closer again, grinding into him from behind. Damian licked the back of his neck before planting kisses into his hair.

“Good morning, lovely.” He whispered, dipping his hand low enough to caress the elastic waistband that Jon was wearing. Jon’s heart had sped up. He stretched against Damian seductively, rolling out his spine against the older boy. He explored the bones of Damian’s hands with his fingers, wanting Damian to move his hand lower, which he did, scooping up Jon’s balls and erection in his powerful hand. 

Jon giggled while Damian made a low, rumbling sound against him that sent heat into Jon’s body. He had always like Damian’s many interesting sounds. He took a moment to appreciate how much he and Damian had grown together over the years.

They really loved each other. Jon reached his arm up and over himself to rub the back of Damian’s head as the boy started planting kisses onto his neck. He exhaled as Damian bit him there, groping his hard package. Damian’s crotch throbbed against him, so he rubbed his butt back against him.

They both stretched and made playful noises at one another while they woke up slowly, drunk on their feelings for each other. They both knew that they had a mission to do that day, but they both also knew from experience that a few more minutes in bed together wouldn’t hurt anything.

Slowly, Jon’s boyfriend stuck his hand into the boxer briefs he was wearing and started to massage his engorged cock. Jon made a soft noise of compliance and need, snuggling against the other boy, massaging his forearms. Damian’s other arm was wrapped under Jon’s body, caressing and massaging his ribs and torso. It made its way to his hips and rested there, pulling the younger boy against him as Damian ground his own erection against him. 

Jon moaned softly, massaging Damian’s cock with his buttocks as Damian wrapped his hand around him and started pumping it up and down slowly. Jon was already leaking precum, and he really hoped that Damian was also.

He thought of the taste of Damian’s precum and shuddered, salivating slightly. He really wanted to go down on his partner, but he was being so lovingly held against him that he did not want to break the magic of their tenderness together.

Damian let out an excited sigh, sucking on the back of Jon’s neck. He pulled the boxer briefs down to get a better grip. Jon gasped almost inaudibly, both of them still relaxed from sleeping so warmly together. The room had started to fill ever so slightly with the smells of their bodies’ arousal.

Jon had pulled Damian’s thumb into his mouth and was swirling his tongue around it, sucking on it to substitute for his warm cock. Damian moaned and jerked Jon off under their blankets, pausing only to pull down his own undergarments, which were black male lingerie.

Jon was even more enamored with it all as he felt the bare skin of his lover’s erection pressing against him from behind. He wiggled his hips to get it into his crack. Damian slid it up and back down with his hips, stroking Jon’s erection, getting his thumb sucked on.

Jon realized then what Damian was starting to realize, so he sucked on his boyfriend’s first two fingers, coating them in saliva. Damian was in full stride now, stroking Jon in his practiced, methodical way. It made Jon so happy to have this with him. His chest felt warm with affection, as did the rest of him. He wanted Damian so badly.

As he was in the middle of having that thought, Damian pulled his fingers out of Jon’s mouth and pressed his palm to the boy’s pink lips. Jon, full of arousal, produced saliva and licked up Damian’s palm seductively, coating it in his spit.

With no hesitation, Damian retracted his hand and carefully maneuvered his spit-coated thumb to Jon’s hole. Jon moaned, reflexively tightening it but then relaxing it consciously as Damian began to spread his own spit around on Jon’s hole. He panted, still being stroked off. He knew what was coming next, and he wanted it. He anticipated it, holding Damian’s arm as he plunged his fingers softly into his hole, stretching him out. He was already so relaxed and willing that he did not take much provocation.

Jon moaned, holding his bottom lip in his teeth, dick twitching from the added sensation of being fingered by the boy wonder. He got fingered for some time, and he loved it.

Damian exhaled sharply against Jon’s neck before kissing it. He took a moment to add to Jon’s salivation on his palm before running his wet palm around the head of his cock. He pressed it gently against Jon’s hole, pulling his buttocks apart with his free hand. Jon shivered.

“I want you,” he whispered, feeling Damian’s slick head against him. He took care to let Damian decide when to push it in, feeling submissive and safe. He adored being vulnerable like that.

“I’m all yours.” Damian replied softly, slowly pushing the head of his cock into Jon. Jon shivered, both of them moaning. Damian pushed in smoothly and gently, burying his erection in the younger boy. Jon’s cock throbbed, spurting a bit of precum. Damian took note of this and rubbed the precum on Jon’s head, sending swirling vibration through Jon’s mind.

He whined, which he knew really turned his boyfriend on.

As Damian hilted himself inside the other, they both rested into one another, giving Jonathan Kent a moment to adjust to the welcome intrusion. Damian was cradling and massaging his balls, which had tightened a bit against his body. He shivered again, wiggling his hips, sending thrills and sensations through the both of them. Damian licked the back of his ear, breathing into it. Jon shivered.

He peaked down briefly with his x-ray vision to see Dami’s cock buried inside of him, tightening his anal ring, making the other moan. He saw Damian’s head flare, his cock throbbing inside of him. Jon moaned in satisfaction, feeling Damian’s other hand work its way onto his hips, holding him close.

He pressed his hips forward and then back again, starting to hump his lover’s dick. Damian moved his hand up to Jon’s chest, rubbing his nipple between his fingers, just as he started to push into and out of him.

Jon could feel Damian’s chiseled abdomen pressing into his back. He could feel his legs entangled with his own. He rubbed his feet against Damian’s, and they both moaned, starting to build up a rhythm.

He whined, “Damiaaan~”

Damian moaned against him, softly pounding his manhood into the younger boy again and again, leaking precum inside of him.

“You’re so warm.” Damian moaned quietly. “And so beautiful.”

Jon blushed, flushed with heat from their interacting. Damian drove himself deeply into him, hitting all of the spots that he knew made Jon twitch and gibber in exultation. 

Though they sometimes leaned forward together or leaned back as one, they stayed like that on their sides, Damian stroking Jon’s strong cock, which had begun to leak more profusely, or otherwise rubbing and pulling on Jon’s body. Damian had told him how much he loved that Jon leaked so much, which always made him feel hot and sexy. They made cute little noises at each other, sometimes moving faster, sometimes moving more slowly.

He could feel his bowels filling up and becoming slick with Damian’s own precum, and he loved it. He loved being together like this. He loved making Damian feel safe and accepted. He loved being filled with his warm genitals. He loved Damian Wayne. He whined.

“Mmmm. You’re so sexy. I love waking up like this.” he said sweetly, humping back into his lover’s cock to accelerate their pace. They moaned.

“You’re always the best part of my day, farm boy.” Damian said back, making Jon flush again. He trailed the tips of his fingers up and down Jon’s chest gently, licking the back of his neck. For a time, Damian switched hands and jerked him off with his other hand, reaching up to grip his shoulder with the other. 

Jon loved seeing Damian be so tender and sweet. They had been exploring this side of their relationship for so long now, and they both had wanted it for so long. Damian could be such a nice guy when he wanted to be, and Jon could be so durable and true. They complimented each other so well.

He switched his hands again, so Jon twisted back just enough for the two of them to kiss as they made love. Robin started bucking his hips harder into the younger boy.

When the pace got more hurried and more urgent, the two building to climax, their kiss broke, Jon leaning his upper torso slightly forward, moaning, Damian continuing to fill him up from the rear.

They exchanged warnings of coming orgasms and picked up the pace together, working Damian’s dick faster and harder until they both came hard, Jon spilling his seed onto the bed and onto Damian’s hand, Damian filling Jon with his powerful spurts. His hot breath caressed his back as he moaned into his partner. Jon could feel his powerful heart beating quickly against him.

This was ecstasy.

They stayed together in their shared heat, Jon tightening again and again on Damian’s cock as he came, making Jon moan at the slick heat filling him up.

They were going to have a great day together.

* * * * * *

Superboy flew high into the sunlight, smile on his radiant face. Wind swept through his hair on a beautiful Spring day.

He looked down at the world and found the cunning boy wonder, Robin, making his way among exotic plant species towards what had been an abandoned building until recently. He almost couldn’t tell if it had once been a greenhouse that had been partially converted into a warehouse or if it had been a warehouse that had been partially converted into being a greenhouse. He supposed Robin would know, but he hadn’t told Superboy.

His hole still ached with their love making. He knew that the back of his neck and the top of his back were covered in hickeys. He loved it. He smelled like Damian.

Cape billowing in the air, he flew in a few lazy circles, elated and free, before honing in his super senses on the building in front of them. They had both known what to expect in terms of detection. When he listened in with his powerful healing (seeing and feeling with some other part of him as well), he found that they had been right.

He observed.

* * * * * * 

Poison Ivy was watering her children. They were extensions of her, and they spoke to her. She could feel their thirst for water, and she was happy to satisfy it.

Beneath the bending slats of twisted light that poured in through the dingy glass ceiling, she moved about in her steamy little paradise, cooing to her plants as would any mother. 

She regretted little in her life. The city people with their harsh ways and vulgar attitudes had deserved what they’d gotten. Even beneath the twisting vines of her lovely plants lay several corpses, feeding her babies the nutrients that they needed to survive. The drifters and squatters were just not so lucky. They were food for her babies.

To be fair, if construction crews would stop poking around here, and if auditors would stop making it a point to come around thinking about taxable properties, she would stop seducing or harming them, too. To be fair, if they cared about their hurting planet the way that they cared about their foolishly human designs, they would see the beauty that she had cultivated here, and they would stop showing up unwelcome and unannounced.

Over the last few months that she had been here, though, she was pretty sure that somebody had finally taken the hint. She had not seen another living human being for weeks, and she was grateful for that. She didn’t always enjoy being violent, but she had to do what she had to do to protect the exotic and condemned species that she had rescued from various entities around the country.

Some of her beauties were lab experiments that had ‘gone array.’ She had liberated them from their tormentors. Some of them were organisms whose lifeblood was so sought after that they had been hunted nearly to extinction. Pharmaceutical companies didn’t care if they wiped out an entire species of flower so long as they could get human beings hopped up, sedated, energetic, and horny. She cringed internally at the thought, glowering on the inside but not at her special comrades. They deserved her smile, so smile she did. For them.

She lived for them. She did her hair for them. She wore her Poison Ivy costume for them.

Like she said, she had been alone with her babies for weeks at last. That was, until Harley Quinn had come along.

After the Joker had finally been killed, screwed over by some deal gone bad (who knew, really, since the big Clown had a ton of enemies, even though most of them had been too afraid to do anything about it), Harley had gone on a raging binge that would have made even the not-so-squeamish cringe.

Hell, what did she care if the girl was a little rowdy? She hadn’t cared if the crazed harlot was a little rough around the edges. She had done her fair share of criminal activities, and she had always found the blonde Harley Quinn attractive, so when the crazed clown’s crazed heroin had found her in the city, hiding from policeman as she snuck back into Gotham after so long a time away, she had smiled at the opportunity to hook up with her. Harley had seemed manic, jovial, dangerous, and seductive: all of the things that Poison Ivy liked in so-called ‘people.’

So they had hooked up. Then they hooked up again about a week later. And they kept hooking up in growing regularity. They probably would have if not for the drugs and strange substances that the dazed Harley had been on. 

Some nights, Harley Quinn would show up drunk and obviously out of her mind. She would throw things. She would break whatever she could. She would rant and yell and cry. Then she would just disappear. Some days, Poison Ivy would wake up only to find the girl at the foot of her bed, makeup half-done, hysterical and sobbing. Dr. Pamela Lillian Isley had not been known for her compassion for humans, but she had earnestly wanted to comfort the girl that she had grown so fond of. It became about more than sex. They had been decent friends before the clown had bitten the bullet anyway.

Sure, it had started out as just fun sex between girls to blow off some steam and frustrations, something to do to pass the wild time between crimes, something to warm herself with in the shadows of the towering city that she had grown to hate. Over the course of a couple of months though, it had heated up into, into, well, it had heated up into something.

She couldn’t honestly say that it was any kind of sweet romance. It was obvious that the confused circus act had been hurt beyond her own comprehension, but Pamela had to admit to herself that every time the blonde jerk would spread her dreamy legs, she couldn’t resist the opportunity to taste that creamy flower. It was more exhilerating than half the sex she’d ever had with men. It was even more exhilerating than all of the sex that she’d had with women, who had all seemed to be cold fish to Poison Ivy.

She hadn’t been expecting to have grown feelings for anyone, let alone for the Clown Prince’s ex-girlfriend (widow?), but those feelings had grown anyway, like some rare fruit in the middle of the desert. They really were pretty good for each other, it seemed.

She had done what she could to please the girl and to comfort her without losing herself, but just when she thought she might have had enough of the sassy brat anyway, Haryley Quinn disappeared. 

Nobody in Gotham knew where she was, and she didn’t seem to be causing trouble anywhere else either.

So Poison Ivy forgot about her. She moved on, never wanting to plant too many roots in any city or in any person anyway.

She took out her frustrations on the idiots dumb enough to cross her path or get in her way.

It was fine. She was doing fine. And then Harley Quinn had shown up anyway, no longer sporting her signature red-and-black tights, no longer in clown makeup, and no longer manic and zealous to forget her criminal lover.

When she had showed up at the greenhouse, she had ugly, dark strangulation marks around her neck. Despite this, she wouldn’t talk about where she had been or what had happened to her. She kept mostly to herself.

Something about the sheer humanity and vulnerability of Harley had made Pamela forgive her on the spot, ready to harbor the fugitive from whatever mishaps she had gotten involved in during her absence from the spotlight. A new relationship between the two had been pollinated, and the deadly ecologist found herself tangled in her own feelings once again. This time, however, she had let her affections slowly blossom. Harley had grown on her.

“La, la, la, la, la,” came the voice of the bandit curled up in front of a television some fifty feet away in their space. “This is my stop. Got to get off. I may go pop.” The voice of Harley Quinn was accompanied by music. She was watching Daria again, singing along with the introduction.

Poison Ivy quivered. At least Harley was looking better these days. Time among Pamela’s garden had seemed to do her good. Of course it had. She listened to her singing, humming along with her.

“You’re standing on my neck.” sang Harleen Frances Quinzel, her voice ringing out in the humid air, muffled by so many plant species, not quite ringing off of the dull, rusty sheets of corrugated steel that lined the massive greenhouse in and out in many areas, but still audible. Pamela had a hard time deciphering whether the tone in Harley’s voice was defeat, apathy, boredom, delight, comfort, or some combination of all five of those emotions.

Maybe the poor girl was just crazy, but she had seemed to have calmed down a lot in the space of time that she had been missing from Gotham. She seemed stable enough, and she had seemed somewhat happier (or at least less miserable) gradually over the last few weeks.

“Uck, how can you stand to watch that show over and over like that? Aren’t you afraid it will rot your brain?” Poison Ivy called to her, teasing, but kind of irritated. This was the fourteenth day straight that Ms. Quinn had decided to spend mostly watching Daria, a hit tv show from MTV during the nineties.

“D’awww, tuna muffin, ain’tcha wanna come watch it with me?” she squeaked back in her sometimes menacing voice. Lately, that voice had just hung in the air with the weight of its sadness. It made the other soften.

Poison Ivy tittered to herself, not even bothering to balk at the pet name. “Oh, maybe later, love. My babies need tending to.” She lovingly stroked the back of one of the massive plants that she was caring for, caressing its leaves softly. They had more than enough to eat because of her babies. There were fruit trees, vegetables, beans, and even soy scattered among the paradise that Ivy had worked hard to cultivate in such a short time. She certainly had her secrets. Mother Gaia loved to open up to her despite her rather unfriendly behaviour towards the majority of human society.

Suddenly, she straightened up, tensing her muscles. She laid aside the watering can.

“Someone’s coming.” She said. She knew that Harley Quinn had heard her.

Pamela listened to her plants. They told her everything they knew about the approaching boy wonder.

“It’s Robin! Damn him and that Bat-cunt, why can’t they just leave us the hell alone?!” She yelled, dashing over to get her garden shears, ready to gut the stupid kid for bothering her and Harleen like that. 

She would have sicced some of the more dangerous plants on the caped-crusader, but she had seen too many lovely botanicals injured by Batman and his gang of hooligan do-gooders over the years. She vowed to just cut him open and stuff him full of poison instead. 

Passion flared inside of herm(really though, she was just bitterly pissed at being disturbed. She just wanted them to leave her alone!)

In a flash of movement and action, before the gawking Poison Ivy could respond, Harley Quinn had groped inside of her bosom, producing white and black makeup. She streaked her eyes with black makeup and streaked her face likewise with white greasepaint. She had pulled her belled hat out of somewhere and had reached under the television to grab an actual bazooka, which she proceeded to load, hissing and baring her teeth. 

Before Poison Ivy could say anything to her, Harley Quinn had bolted towards the main door, weapon in hand, seeking a clear line of sight. Pamela had the feeling that this was not going to end well. She braced herself for the inevitable conflict anyway, ready to defend her new home.

* * * * * *

Robin knew in the periphery of his awareness that Superboy was up in the sky, flying out of sight, just as they had planned.

He had no fear as he strolled boldy up to the looming greenhouse/warehouse, knowing full well that the exotic plants were informing the two women in the building of their arrival. Red Hood, overhearing one of Damian’s phone calls to Jon, had offered to come with them. So had the Martian Manhunter. Robin had declined all of their help. This was something that he and Superboy needed to do. Alone.

He approached the main door in broad daylight, cape whipping about gently in the wind. He could smell so many interesting smells, but though the growth was dense and healthy, it did not call forth fond feelings like the greenery in the Amazon had for him. That alone convinced him that they were in the right place doing the right thing. He wanted to see these organisms flourish, including the two women in the building.

With no glint of ceremony, he pushed open the rusty steel door and sauntered inside.

A high-pitched, vengeful yell rang out. He looked ahead to see the notorious Harley Quinn aiming a full-fledged bazooka at him. Poison Ivy darted away into the greenery.

“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” Harley Quinn yelled, eyes bulging, makeup chaotic, hat askew.

Robin entered, closing the door behind him. He paused, catching the gaze of Harleen Quinzel from some twenty yards away. They locked eyes.

“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh-- oh, screw it.” she said, her voice slowly lowering in volume, tossing the bazooka inelegantly to the greenhouse floor. “Whatever,” she said, wandering away to what he assumed was a television. Moments later, he heard the program start up.

“Are bats sneaking into your neighbourhood disguised as cute flying squirrels? Rabid Rodent Rip-off, tonight on Sick, Sad World.”

Nobody in the room missed the irony.

Poison Ivy appeared out of the bushes wielding garden shears in her green-gloved hands. 

“What the actual hell, Harley? What was all that about?!” she yelled at the woman that Robin could no longer see. He continued to approach them as Superboy floated in through a narrow hole in the ceiling. He heard Poison Ivy spin on him and throw a spore of some kind at him that let loose a folly of colored dust as it accelerated towards him.

Superboy blew out at the spore, watching the dust turn to frigid ice crystals and fall away harmlessly into the canopy.

“Please don’t hurt your friends. We’re only here to help.” Superboy said, referring to the many plants, his hair cute and windswept. Poison Ivy was not impressed. 

“Oh, shove it!” She yelled, spinning to face Robin as he came into view, moving closer. He stopped out of respect, feeling her animosity and desperation towards him.

“And just what in the world of beautiful Gaia are you doing here, you damned punk?! Why do you and the rest of you freaks have to bother us like this?! What did we do to you?!” She bellowed, digging in her pocket for what he knew was a deadly aphrodesiac.

Harley Quinn spoke up, plopped in front of the dingy television set.

“Oh, just let him do his thing. Who cares?” she said morosely, moping and pouting at the same time. “The jig is up.”

“The ‘jig is up?’” Ivy yelled, reeling on her. “What is up with YOU?? You can’t just lay here and die like that!” she yelled. Harley Quinn winced.

“I ain’t layin’ and I ain’t dyin.’ Fruit o’ the looms here tracked me down. Maybe if you play nice, Lily Pad, he’ll just take me and leave you alone, see?” she said, not even bothering to turn to look at any of them.

Poison Ivy looked deflated. She went over to Harleen. “Hey, don’t talk like that.” she said much more softly. It sounded comforting to Robin. He stayed where he was, wanting to earn their trust, praying silently for them to see his and Jon’s intentions.

Isley looked over at him. “You’re not here for just her, are you? Can’t you just leave us alone?” she said softly, most of the venom in her voice gone. Some remained.

“We’re not here like that. Like Superboy said, we just want to help.” Robin started. Poison Ivy was not impressed.

“Help?? HELP?! Does it look like you’re helping, goodie-goodie, showing up here with this overpowered boy scout like you own the place?? Don’t you know that the earth despises you? You don’t know what you’re talking about!” She spat coldly at him. Again, he could feel her hatred. She was scared.

“Look, I know this is hard to believe, but I want to help you protect all of your friends. I want to help you protect them.” He walked forward again, reaching into his utility belt to pull out a sheet of paper. Poison Ivy looked ready to strike until he flipped the paper out to full flatness. “Here.” he said, close enough now to offer her the pristine legal document.

She looked like she was about to attempt to stab him in the throat with her shears, eyes narrowed at him. Her eyes softened though as she looked defeated, snatching the document from him. Her eyes grew wider as she read it. Even Harley Quinn had turned in feigned disinterest to see what the two of them were doing.

Superboy had flown in closer but was still at a safe distance away, listening to the plants to make sure that none of them made a move to harm him or his boyfriend.

“What is this?” Poison Ivy asked quietly. “Is this some sort of trick?!” She spat at him a little more loudly.

“What is it?” Harley asked Pamela.

“It’s a deed. The deed to this lot and all of the surrounding area within a mile. It even covers mineral rights under the soil.” Robin said, cool as a cucumber. The two women looked up at him.

“Why ya gone and done that?” Quinzel asked, narrowing her eyes at him. He caught her gaze back.

“To ensure that nobody harasses you or Ivy here on this land again. And to guarantee that these plants have a place to call home.” He indicated the various species in the building. Poison Ivy whipped her head to look at Superboy, who landed softly with his forearms up in front of his chest, signifying innocence.

She looked back at him, clearly wanting to rip the document up, holding it with both hands all the same. She waited. This certainly explained why it had grown quiet there.

“And why should we trust you?” she asked after thinking, a hardness in her voice. Her red hair shone vividly in the light pouring into the building in tainted, yellow slats.

“You don’t have to trust me. I pulled a lot of strings to make this happen for you. All I want is for you to hear me out.” Robin said. The two women shifted. Poison Ivy lowered her shears.

Robin slowly began to talk about choices. He started with the choices of two people coming together to create life. Then he went into choices of education, of occupation, and of romance. He started telling them about all of the tight, complicated little emotions that could give rise to hate. He started talking about ways to sink down into the mud of life and how to rise back up out of it. He started talking about all of the difficult situations in life and how it was possible to work through emotions in such a way that could lead away from hate. He talked about love and about healing. He talked about enduring those situations to build a better tomorrow. He started to pace.

The young woman with the clown makeup interrupted him, laughing. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, preacher boy! You're harpin' on the wrong strings here. You expect us to buy this crap? Why’d ya come here high off your ass like that?" 

He opened up about the fires in the Amazon. He opened up about all of the crime that he fought and all of the hardships he had seen. He talked about suffering, and he talked about children being abused and corrupted.

"The truth is that you both have a lot to offer the world that you're never going to get the opportunity to share if you keep on the path that you're on. The truth is that this world needs you. We need you, and we need you to care." Robin paused, meeting Jon’s eyes before going into everything that had happened with Crane. He went into why he was even there talking with them in the first place. He talked about all of the people that idolized the two of them, and about how much help they could provide other struggling people if they would just trust him and put in a little effort.

He'd rehearsed all of this so many times that he didn't falter his words while he continued to open up to them. He looked to Superboy many times for emotional support.

The women looked lost in thought, genuinely considering his words carefully. He knew this was different than the approach they were used to. Maybe he had gotten their attention after all.

"If we wanted to hurt each other, we could. We all would have by now. So let's stop this fighting and just do what we can to move on from here. I know it won't be easy, but please: do this to inspire a generation. Do it for your peace of mind and for these wonderful plants." Robin said, pausing briefly.

The two villains continued to seem to think this all over.

"What happens if we don't cooperate? What if we don't care?" Isley said, trying to sound venomous but being too concerned to really do so. Damian could see that she looked perturbed about everything going on in South America. He was offering her an opportunity to help the situation.

"We don't want to do anything else. We don't want to throw you in prison. We don't want to do anything else to hurt you or to give you reasons to lash out. And we don't want you or your greenhouse to end up like the Joker. We just want to help." Robin didn't smile, but he knew that they could tell that he was sincere.

He had hesitated to bring up the deceased crime figure, but he felt that it was best. Some of the Joker's 'best relations' had also been slaughtered recently.

Many villains claimed their hand in the matter, but even some of those had wound up dead. Batman was determined to find the source of those murders, and had been for almost a year.

Despite Robin’s desire to see these two heinous women pay for their crimes, he had begun months ago to suspect that there may just be a better way for them to repay their debts to society than rotting in a prison cell that they may or may not have escaped from anyway. 

Despite his harsher judgement, his heart was feeling softened, and he genuinely did not want to see them getting hurt.

"But you have to trust us. This is your best shot towards happiness, and we're going to do everything we can to protect you through this." Superboy said. "We just need you to try. You can do this." This seemed to break Ivy out of a trance. Jon had not said much that entire time.

Ivy looked at Harley with concern, her face sort of fallen and pale.

They exchanged a cryptic glance. These were two people who had done their best to spurn even Batman and the Justice League. Damian felt skeptical that they had reached them until he saw Harley Quinn shrug, her head tilted sideways. She looked nonplussed, but it made Robin reconsider his doubts.

"Could we maybe have some time to think it over?" Poison Ivy asked.

Before anyone had time to reply, Harley Quinn spoke up. "Alright! We thought it over! We're in." Poison Ivy didn't even look awestruck. She just rolled her eyes.

"Do you really think anyone is going to care about us? Do you really think this could do any good at all?" Ivy asked. Robin and Superboy replied in unison.

"Yes."

Ivy looked around at her plants. Harley looked at the two boys and then off into space. The sound of a fountain tinkling water into a pool played inside the massive greenhouse. The wind whispered against glass and corrugated steel. The moment hung on.

The mad clown bobbed her head from side to side, making her bells jingle. It was an eerie sound.

“Hmmm. So this is where I ended up, huh? Damian Wayne and his boyfriend flyin’ inta this lesbian pad to get me ta turn myself in ta the authorities? Sheesh.”

Damian faltered. Even the women noticed his stillness. A younger Jonathan Kent may have found her funny. He didn't now.

Robin stared at her. Did everyone know who Damian was? Why did he even bother to wear a mask, he thought. Did even Jonathan Crane know who he was?

“What makes you think he's-" Poison Ivy started.

“Queer? Oh come on, these bat freaks ain’t foolin’ nobody.” she said, a bit of sass perking up in her voice. Superboy said nothing.

“No, that-”

“Oh, come on, sweetie. We’re criminals. We’re crazy, not stupid.” She smiled brightly at the two boys, malicious delight in her eyes. Robin said nothing. “Mista’ J knows more about Batman than this punk.”

Superboy had floated over to him and was hovering around him protectively. Poison Ivy looked shocked, but somewhat apathetic. She gave Harley Quinn a look that made the girl laugh.

“Whaaaaat?? Like I’m gonna go around sayin’ ta everybody, ‘hey, look, everyone: Bruce Wayne is the Batman'??? I’m not some amatuer like you.” She looked away wistfully, ignoring Pamela’s expression. “Besides, we didn’t care about that.”

“Why wouldn’t you tell anyone?” Pamela asked. Harley Quinn smiled at Robin brightly, showing as many teeth as she could.

“Occupational courtesy.”

She sighed heavily and dramatically then, a sad but somehow relieved look on her face. “So whadda we gotta do ta start kissin’ Gotham’s big, fat ass for ya?”

* * * * * *

It was several weeks later.

Damian Wayne had been heavily involved in the litigation processes of Jonathan Crane, Pamela Isley, and Harleen Quinzel, doing everything that he could from the shadows to pull strings for the new program that he was a part of starting. These three, among others, were to be the image of the Amends Program, a legal recourse and recovery program geared towards rehabilitating minor and major villains.

Jonathan Crane had already agreed to several years in prison for his crimes. Robin knew that he was flourishing in the prison ministry program. It seemed to suit him.

It was looking like Pamela Isley would be able to travel to South America under the watch of several heroes who had risked the whispers against them to get her down there to help the jungles recover. That was good news.

Robin was not sure how many years in a maximum security facility Harleen Quinzel would get, but she was allowed to have visitors, and she was already getting reduced time for sharing information on various criminal organizations. The Justice League was appreciative of her information, but even their influence could not sway the decision to confine her to the state. She was not going to be allowed to go with 'Lillian' Isley to South America. She seemed at peace with the decision, though. She had seemed to accept a lot rather suddenly, unpredictable as ever.

At first, all of this had seemed outlandish to him, but seeing Crane in the state that he had had made Robin hopeful. Reports from other successful rehabilitation programs around the world had also bolstered his confidence in the movement. That, the women's cooperation, and his newly developing faith all made him feel what Jon would probably have called ‘hopeful.’

The room was packed with top reporters, known capes, psychologists, political figures, and police officers. Lois Lane even sat in the second row, laptop in her lap, ready to write. She was proud of the two boys for what they had undertaken to accomplish.

Harley Quinn looked somewhat naked without her famous clown makeup on, but she did not look any less imposing sitting on the stage while various figures spoke about the program. They all knew the sorts of things that she had done, and they all suspected that she had done even worse things that they had not known about.

During the event, the public was informed about the legal processes of all of this, about Isley’s upcoming involvement out of the country, and about Jonathan Crane’s seeming recovery. These were some serious topics, and some heroes had even shown up in costume to vouch for the program and to speak about crime reduction and peace-building in the world’s cities.

When she was finally properly introduced, having something to say, Harleen wore a sardonic smile. She walked up to the podium slowly, her usual bounce a bit subdued, putting a hand over her eyes to shade them from the fluorescent light as she surveyed the room as a joke. All eyes were on her.

She cleared her throat dramatically, her squeaky voice calling a hushed attention over the crowd.

“So. Some o’ you may think I’m pretty cool, eh? I guess some o’ you kids idolize me or somethin’.”

She looked around the crowd at the reporters with their video cameras and notepads. She knew that she was speaking to a broad audience despite the older crowd that filled the room.

“Heh. Well that’s pretty sad, kid. You don’t wanna be me.” She frowned in sadness for a brief moment. “I gave up everythin’ to belong to Mista J, and now he’s dead. Because that’s what ya get when ya act like Mista J: ya get dead.” She snorted a prolonged tear. Shaken up, she proceeded, shrugging it off.

“I lived like that fa years, and I just wanna say that he was already dead before he wound up in that box. You think bein’ like me and him would be pretty cool, wouldn’t cha? Well… The Joka’ was abusive to me. He was a psychopath, and I was stupid ta ever trust him. He told me all the things I wanted ta hear, but it was all tricks, yea? Yea, it was all tricks.”

“At the end of the day, he didn’t even care about himself, and now my puddin’s dead. What’s the fun in that, huh? Bein’ dead ain’t no fun!” She bowed her head hiding her eyes for a moment before she resumed her speech.

“You think breakin’ the laws’ pretty cool, don’t cha? I’ll bet you think you’re reaaal tough, like bein’ mean ta everybody is pretty cool, don’t cha?” She gave a little laugh. It was quite condescending. It bordered on the scathing. She appeared to weigh what she had said a bit, bobbing her head with her thoughts.

“Well... breakin’ some laws is pretty neat.” The audience gasped, but she pressed on before anyone could interrupt. “Like that Rosa Parks lady who broke the law sittin’ on that bus... Or those nice Germans who hid Jewish people so they wouldn’t be killed in the Holocaust, yea?” She looked into the crowd. “Or that Martin Luther King, Jr. fella who broke all those laws to sit at lunch counters with crazy white people… Yea. That stuff is pretty neat.” She bowed her head to the side, appearing to contemplate what she was saying, somewhat lost in thought.

“But Mista J, he didn’t love me. He didn’t love nobody.”

“He couldn’t love anybody. I know some a ya out there are chasin’ someone that don’t love you neither. You’re in a relationship because ya scared, or else you don’t know what to do with yourself, but sweetie, you gotta get outta that. You gotta care about ya’self, ya know? Because some people: they ain’t gonna care about cha. They’ll just use you up until you blow away, same as nothin’.”

The audience was silent. She wagged her finger at the cameras, lowering her brow over one eye.

“Now I ain’t no square up here tellin’ ya to be all Cinderella and all that, okay? And I ain’t no Jesus Freak neither tellin’ you to be all righteous and go to church every Sunday like that Scarecrow freak. Blecgchhkk.” She made a retching noise that did not make anybody in the audience laugh. “Some things just ain’t right ta put up with, okay?” She was quiet for a moment, reading the audience.

“But I am up here today tellin’ you that there’s a big world out there. There’s a lot goin’ on… Why get so fixated on all that gore and horror and crazy stuff? You can do a lot better for yourself than wantin’ ta be Darth Vader or somethin’, okay? Get a better life. Get a better role model.” She made a small ordeal of swallowing, like she was swallowing something sour. It could have been her pride. “I guess, I guess like Wonder Woman or somethin’. Or that dog from that tv show. Or was it a movie?” She appeared to think, putting her finger on her lip.

“Anyway! You gotta live your own life!” She brightened, smiling at the audience. “But your life might be longer than you think, okay? And you might do some real bad things that ain’t good for anybody. And you might just learn to regret all that later on. So why not make somethin’ o’ yerself now while you still got a good shot? Cuz’ ya life could be way, way shorter than ya think, too, sweetie. We ain’t livin’ fa eva.” She smiled sympathetically into the audience, teeth radiant and exposed. Then she appeared to deflate on the spot, crumpling into herself at what she was saying.

“Whatever.” She concluded her speech with her eyes just barely glistening. She walked away from the podium, leaving everyone dazed before an onslaught of questions and picture taking broke out in the crowd of reporters and onlookers. Some people started clapping, which quickly built up in the audience until nearly everyone was clapping for her. The questions died down into murmuring as the applause died down.

She didn’t appear to be phased by a bit of it. She walked calmly over to the woman known previously as Poison Ivy and gave her a big, fat, long kiss before sitting down in her chair, trying to make herself look bored “or somethin’.” Only the heat and slight color in her cheeks gave away what must have been some much deeper emotions about the whole ordeal.

Pamela Isley looked less angry than she had in some time. She looked moved by what Harleen Quinzel had said.

Damian Wayne, lost amidst the crowd, incognito, pulled his hands out of his pockets to clap when the audience had, releasing the package of now-warm seeds that had been sent to him from one of the villages in the Amazon. Kara had had them express-delivered to him, and they had arrived just that morning. 

He fully intended to share some of them with Dr. Isley to plant in her greenhous before she departed on her travels. He knew that the new plants would be well taken care of by the supers that would watch over Isley’s garden while she was gone. He even assumed that the other plants would look over them as well.

They rested gently in his pockets as he clapped, wanting to find good soil of their own.

He departed before the press release ended.


	8. Feathers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Damian faces some seriously new life choices as he and Jon continue their inward and outward search for themselves. Enjoy~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is heavier and more graphic than the others. Please note that the content here will deal with matters of gun violence and prejudice. Reader discretion is advised.

In the cool, stark shadows at the end of a warm day was amassed a dark figure, pooled in black fabric. The figure was high up above the city atop a building bathed in the crimson light of the setting sun, safe from detection in just the right spot on the roof, hidden from the world, and yet coming to be known deeply by himself.

Damian Wayne was a changed man. Jon had changed him. The Amazon had changed him. Reading the Scriptures had changed him. He was becoming more of himself.

For the last four weeks, he had been reading the Holy Texts in increasing frequency, pouring through modern analytical papers and ancient tomes in his spare moments. He could feel the words of the Texts seeping into cracks in his own being, filling him with insight and wonder that he had never known before.

Sure, he knew a lot of the modern rationalization and contextualization of the Texts, but they had a power all their own all the same, their truths reverberating in his being, unsettling dust and stitching up wounds. If nothing else, they were of tremendous historical significance. They communicated the values of cultures long since dead as well as sharing their insights. These had gone deeply within themselves in order to find Truth and Ecstacy. 

He thanks his good fortune for what the Shaman in the Amazon had done, for she had opened him up to a sort of Initiation. Jonathan Crane had undergone something remotely similar, though his initiation had been full of scourging and cleansing, a cleansing that he had not been altogether prepared for. Damian felt more resolve. He felt more readiness for the discoveries that were awaiting him. In fact, you could even call him eager, the light of his own discoveries slashing away at the shadowy parts within himself.

He found himself wondering frequently about the lives of the people in the cities, both of today and of times past. In the present context, Gotham seemed so different than Metropolis. The people in Gotham seemed sick, somehow, hypnotized by the hustle and bustle of their contemporary lives, caught up in habits of self-deprecation and harm. Damian had certainly noticed a rising trend in race issues and in religious quarrels in Gotham over the last several years. It seemed that the tension in the city was mirrored by the ever-increasing tension within himself, at least in the short term.

He felt almost like a fine instrument that was being slowly tuned over time. He found himself mulling over passages and considering ancient words as if they were speaking directly to him. Sometimes, it seemed, they were. These Words had even guided him on recent cases, and he had to admit that he was impressed.

Racing through the Koran, the Torah, through Gnostic Texts and the Bible, he found himself challenged to integrate such massive collections all writhing and alive now within him. In the Bible in particular, he thought it somewhat the story of a man that could have been the Primal Man, or the Attman that Hinduism talked about. Genesis seemed to be a story of conception in the womb, and of birth. It was a creation and immediate separation from that warm, dark space, from that Eden where all needs were taken care of the moment the need arose.

“What God has joined, let no man separate… The two shall come together and become one flesh…” He was now flesh. Two had come together on his behalf some eighteen years ago.

Genesis was a story of creation, of two people coming together to create a new lifeform that was then its own forevermore, left to find meaning and to glean insight in the world in which it would toil, tasting of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. Oh, how some seemed to love the bitterest of fruits on that tree.

He found himself ruminating on his mother, reflecting on how utterly alien she was compared to Jon’s mother.

Lois Lane loved her son. She cherished him and her husband and urged both of them to grow, egging them into making their own decisions and owning those choices while she cheered them on from the sidelines. Talia al Ghul was a ruthless woman who had groomed him to be just as ruthless. He did not know if she was dead or alive, and he supposed it did not matter. She was a part of him now and forever, a remnant in his memory whispering to him from the shadows of his inner darkness, much like the choices of the monads in the memories of God (according to Process Theism, Alfred Whitehead, and Charles Hartshorne).

Persuasion, not coercion.

He found himself thinking of the Tower of Babel and how like society the God of that story was: a multiplicity coming in to confound the Man with differing speeches and societal customs. These stories in Genesis all seemed to paint a pretty clear picture: birth (the leaving of the womb), growth (the learning of the ways of the people), life, and eventual death and transcendence. Abraham had to leave his home and reject the folly of his predecessors, much like every child. 

For his part, Damian felt that he was still too young to die, though he was not smug enough to think that he could not. He had lived to know much better than that. Anyone could die at any moment. Today could even be the day that he would.

Damian Wayne had known a hero that had died. It had been an ugly thing. He had even been there for it. It was one of his many private memories that he held back like jewels. Not jewels to be spent, or that had value to anyone else, but more like hard, crystallized things that had buried themselves in himself and wouldn't be budged. All of the Texts that he'd been reading seemed to have awakened those little jewels into all singing together. It had been a slow chorus that had built into a soul-burdening hum, fraught with dangers and secrets. Crevices were illuminated. Passages that contradicted other passages fit together in radiant uniformity, informing the whole.

As he looked back over his life and began contemplating his death, as he had over the last year, he had touched upon new sensations and imaginations that he had never known before, as if his whole ego were being examined all at once. In a certain sense, he didn't even feel real anymore, but in another sense, he knew that he was more real now than he had ever been. He had tremendous hope for what could pour forth out of this into the next stages of his life, and, like his father before him, he was going to embrace the darkness. Because he could embrace the Light.

Bruce Wayne had embraced becoming the Batman. Damian Wayne was ready to embrace his fate.

As the sun sank away in Gotham City, the masked figure dressed in black found himself thinking about his father. He found himself recalling the tenacity, the pain, and the utter focus that the Batman was capable of. He'd seen a side of the Dark Knight on the day a hero had fallen that he'd never seen in anyone. It had taken the ending of a noble life for Batman’s son to get that glimpse, and honestly, it wasn't worth the price paid. Still, he would never forget that glimpse. That cavernous, icy, intimate glimpse into probably the best living detective on the planet.

He saw similarities in potential within himself and his father. But something new was stirring. Something different.

As the darkness closed in around Damian, who had been praying now for hours in silence, he found himself slowly presented with a growing opportunity. He'd known for years that he couldn't continue on in the shadow of the Robin, and much as he supposed he cherished the mantle, he knew it wasn't his own. He'd always known that.

After much planning and inner searching, his new path had blossomed inside of him suddenly in an instant. He'd had dreams before of shadowy figures emerging from himself, but nothing so powerful or so significant had previously fallen into place for him. Almost like with his romantic feelings for Jon, he'd found himself waiting, calculating and harboring the desires, fostering their depths into something pristine like the other secret jewels in the depths of his being. While nothing could compare to his relationship with the son of the son of Krypton, he had to admit that the subject of his own being had also seemed to have always been there waiting to give birth to a new experience. So there it was.

Black cape. Black hood. White trim all in soft, calculated feathers.

He hadn't been able to forsake the hood. It was part of his motif, part of his heritage. Oh how much of his heritage had been bubbling up lately, his younger self and present self apparently brought together out of the mire of time and space into a single resonance of purpose. How all of the distractions and forgetfulness had been cleared away like the Red Sea, parted like the light from the dark in the waters at the beginning.

He'd considered so deeply the villainy that he had grown up out of. He'd been so challenged by the un-reality of himself and life with the Batman in the last several months. He found himself growing in appreciation because of it. He'd been so much kinder and gentler to his family lately. And even kinder and gentler to Jon, if that were possible. He could almost smell his young partner then on that roof, something lingering in the forefront of his memory at all times, a souvenier of their deep bond.

Jon was so beautiful. The way his striking blue eyes would clear and light up when he saw Damian made his stomach do back flips. He made such radiant, passionate sounds when Damian would touch him. When he would lick him. And kiss him. Damian thought about Jon’s sensitive armpits and about how he’d tasted the flesh there on so many occasions. Superboy had helped the young protege of the Batman more than he even know. He was such a part of him, now more than ever. The thought gave Damian strength as he prayed, forgetting himself and yet seemingly seeing all of himself at once.

How he wanted that passion for Jon to ignite something in his deepest soul. How he wanted to radiate that love however he could.

Earlier that day, on his way to the rooftop, on his way up a fire escape of a building, he had locked eyes with an unfortunately grubby homeless man. In that moment, something passed between them like electricity, connecting their hearts for the briefest of moments. Damian felt like all of his prayers had reached out through him in that moment and healed something in the man. He'd known it to be the truth. It was undeniable. Cobwebs were swept away, and a seed of clarity was planted in the stranger, though maybe Damian had seen him before and just not been aware of it. Who was a stranger to God?

Sure, the whole thing may have felt extraordinary. He knew that it would be quite significant to the man, whose name he found he'd known in that instant (Lamar Jones). In his line of work though, and in all of his research, he'd found that nothing superseded the ordinary. Nothing transcended what already was. Everything was plain and normal and happened in it's own regularity if you could see with enough perspective. The things that people considered to be unusual were just part of the package. People just lacked scope of experience.

Charles Fort would certainly agree with that statement.

The wind whispered through the objects on the roof. Birds cooed and chirped all around.

Black mask with white trim. White wig with heavy Black flecks through it. Finger and toenails painted black, hidden by his costume.

He would leave behind the bright colors of his previous incarnation tonight in order to have color within. He would embrace the dichotomy of polar opposites in order to transcend them. Life was filled with paradoxes. That's why there weren't any. They were perfectly normal, complementing each other and creating the world from their cruxes.

A new aspect of Gotham City was opening itself to him. Like thousands of mad, blinking lights, the awareness of beings all around him pressed in on him, their fear, greed, and general disharmony swelling and surrounding him from every side as he opened himself to whatever there was and prayed to whatever essence there was even of that.

That essence seemed to connect them all, even beyond time and space. He had found himself knowing lately about many things before they happened. At one point, he had contacted Kara in the dead of night to tell her to prepare for a potential framing of Poison Ivy, who had been due to arrive several weeks later. Supergirl had been able to head an investigation and pin the culprits before news had leaked out of any sinister nature. Nobody was even hurt.

At another point, he had decided to stay in a certain location on a street corner, seemingly waiting for an accident that was about to happen. Indeed, it did happen. Even as the dog ran out into traffic, Damian, who had already been moving, driven on by impulse, had caught the dog and successfully rolled them both into protective safety. He came to the conclusion afterwards that he would not have been able to save the Irish Setter unless he had already been moving like he had been.

Here though, in the fog of his own being, the many consequences of his actions seemed to stretch outwards into the infinite. He saw images and heard sounds, all relaying to him the necessary repercussions of his actions, both then and now. The face of Ra’s al Ghul faded in and out of his consciousness, the training he had undergone as a child painfully present in his awareness. It was his. He was going to use it.

As he deepened, he started to see shadowy forms and figures in his mind, visions of many potentially bleak outcomes after death, tumbling and wailing around him in silent, perpetual agony. His world shook and rocked gently. The figures twisted and pulled at him, willing him to fail, warning him of his misdeeds and of those of the world.

The corporate sabotage. The corruption of high courts. The destruction of native people and native lands. The stink of coal and of oil. The hand of shadowy figures murdering the world from the shadows. The smile of blatant figures killing the world in broad daylight. It all pressed in on him, willing him to give in.

Over time, the images rocked and changed, coalescing into the very blackened fires of hell, swelling and pooling all around him inside the hearts of Gothamites who were quite unaware of their eventual bondage. Claustrophobia filled his lungs, and devastation pressed into his awareness.

He was brought to examine his life. Was he better than any of those that he had stopped in their efforts to perpetrate evils onto the world? He was born out of madness and lies, brought up to kill, destined to have influence on the masses for the better or worse. What would it take to atone for his mistakes? What would it take to atone for the mistakes of those around him?

As fear pressed in and the visions of a fire made by the spirit of people began to surround him, as he felt the answering of his prayers echoing outward and touching the area, as he accepted the gradually rising ecstasy of religious experience, he found his mind filled with an image.

Several weeks ago, before he'd gotten it into his mind to finally contact the super suit maker about his new identity, he'd saved a woman from a fire. He had known just where to go into the retirement community as the fire blazed. He had been drawn to her.

When he had arrived, what the authorities thought were all of the residents had been gathered outside, safe from the physical harm of the fire, though distraught by the loss of their home. The young Wayne, however, had gotten a strong glimmer of something amiss as he observed the building's partial collapse from across the way. He'd had such a strong inkling that he'd fired his grappling gun into the heart of the blaze on impulse, pulling himself into the heat and light of it all, not able to hear the gasping crowd below as he entered.

The building quaked. Walls buckled. He’d had the good sense to place an oxygen filter over his nose and mouth before entering, and his vision was protected by an infrared device covering his eyes. Inside the building though, all was chaos.

Still, he had known where to go, and his intuitions had lead him more or less right to the woman (Diane) who had found herself trapped by the fire. She had been screaming in her living room, clutching to a throw pillow as the fire consumed the couch around her. He would find out later from her medical logs that she was living with dementia and had not realized that her home was burning until it had been too late to flee. In the madness of it all, nobody had remembered to check in on her.

He'd swooped in then, sweeping her frail form into his strong arms, taking in the room as he did, senses stronger than his arms. Windows burning. Floor collapsing. He'd decided to head them back into the fire to enter a stairwell that he had passed.

He navigated them back as the poor woman screamed and screamed into his arms, yelling herself hoarse, her face buried in his chest so she could avoid the sight of the flames. She was crying, wrenching his heart.

If he had not been so agile and so dextrous, they surely would have perished in the blaze. Stairwells fell away. Doors burst open, dragon’s mouths of heat and corrosion. The building collapsed around them as he raced them to eventual safety, all the while waiting in anticipation of the bottom floor and their escape. For a single, fragile moment, he had feared they would not reach the way through.

When they had exited the building, mercifully expelling into the coolness of the blackened night, the woman had looked up in awe at the sky, clutching him tightly around the neck. She'd cried, grateful for his saving her life, pressing her forehead to his chin as she expressed her deep stress at the whole ordeal.

Robin caught sight of the medical team watching them. The paramedics stayed at bay for a moment, letting him calm her down before coming to her aid and examination, or perhaps just in awe of his heroism.

She had still been clutching her throw pillow, which she pushed to him in blatant gratitude, urging him to take it, looking up at him with her lips curled over her gums. She had no teeth.

He accepted her throw pillow, contemplated his passage through her life, remembering a Scripture that Jon had shared with him weeks earlier. He truly felt for her loss. “The Awakened exert themselves. They are not attached to any home; like swans that abandon the lake, they leave home after home behind.”

Like swans abandoning a lake….

Ha had looked down then, covered in ash and smoke, some elements of his outfit charred black. Upon the once crisp, white pillow was the figure of a dove, now seared black from the blaze, tendrils of smoke snaking up the image in futility. It had survived that fire, much as he had.

Like swans abandoning a lake... 

Or like a dove.

The dove lighting on Christ from the heavens. The dove bringing a sign of land to Noah. The symbol of all of this was stitched into her pillow, and now, into his memory and being.

There he was, weeks later, in black spandex, white stripes etched up the side, white down trim wrapped around his wrists, his waist, and on the tops of his half-calf-high boots. Black boots. Black gloves. New intentions stirring in his being.

Damian Wayne had thought that he might someday take over for the Batman, adopting his crest and outfit, but there he was with a rather simple, rather Pentecostal, rather pearly white symbol of a dove resting on his chest.

He was Black Dove. The Robin had taken flight.

On the later rooftop, the invisible vision of the fires of hell flickered inside his heart, sweltering all around him in a place unseen by others. He knew then that this was from God. He was to be Black Dove, harbinger of peace. He was going to own this darkness, not shy away from it or cast blame upon the world for it. He would walk boldly into whatever depths and evils that would confront him, and he would rise from them until he could rise no more, like his father before him.

As many lines and thoughts all coalesced for his attention within himself, weighing in heavily on him, he found himself thinking of Solomon and the two women with the baby. Both claimed that the child was theirs, but as soon as King Solomon ordered a sword be brought forth, it became clear who the mother was. This was like that. This was a test.

He could certainly be dragged into the depths of despair and misgivings. He could certainly roll over and die, or shy away from the suffering of others. He could even consign the guilty to these terrorizing depths, proclaiming that he himself was worthy of paradise while proclaiming that those others stank with sin and corruption, deserving the fate that they had been warned of. Many others were content to believe in the fairy tale of their own salvation at the cost of the many. He was not.

In that very challenging moment, confronted by a choice that he had thought that he had made when he had put on the suit of the Robin, he was the true mother, and he had a duty to his people. He was not going to abandon anyone. Those that were fine with hell and with the suffering of the world, those that were waiting for their triumphant reward at the end of life, those that were waiting for the troubles of the world to wrack it away into desecration, they had no love in mind for the world or her people. Those people had abandoned everything, and he knew that they would be sorely corrected at the end of their lives for their treachery and apathy.

People like the preaching hater of queers at Raven’s college sought to divide the infant in two, glad, nay, deeply pleased and satisfied to take their dripping, bloody half of the whole mess as revenge and due payment for what they thought they had endured. What did his ilk know of endurance? What did they know of just rewards?

In that moment on that quiet, murky rooftop, buried in deep shadows, lost to the world, he tasted what Jonathan Crane had, and they drank from the same cup. He couldn’t look away. He couldn’t excuse the horror. He couldn’t permit such atrocities. He was not going to stand for it, passively accepting defeat like some smug coward. He was the son of Batman! Lover of Superboy! That was more than enough to get him through whatever he had to endure!

The epiphany rang out from his person, painting the area with his resolve, with the spring of compassion that had been tapped. Like the water flowing from the rocks at the feet of Moses, he was stirred to the depths, and empathy began to flow out from him unbounded. He was not his mother’s mistakes. He was not his father’s burden. He was not a bad influence on Jon. He was the son of Batman, and nobody could ever do a damn thing to take that away from him!

He rose slowly at first, coming up from the slanted shadows as the visions of doom built in his heart. He could feel it. He could see it. Yet he decided then and there to serve the world, and the darkness trembled. The invisible flames slowly receded as he caught his breath. He had not even realized that he’d been panting. He simply acknowledged the call to action. To repentance.

A long moment stretched out then as he regained his composure.

The overwhelming presence of doom began to become a wider presence of something light and open, something guiding him, pleased with his decision to not leave the suffering behind. He would gladly march boldly into a thousand hells if it meant liberating even a few people. He could do nothing less. He was a hero!

They cannot hurt you tonight.

He sensed this information. Then something shifted out in the world. He began to move. Looking over the roof, he dove, cape billowing out behind him in the rush of his descent.

Out shot the utility of his grappling gun, now pearly and white, and onward moved the mysterious Black Dove, drawn to the next event of his life like a moth to the flame. A moth made of light and of shadows.

He took a sharp turn. He climbed a building. He descended. On and on, compelled by deep vibrations onward towards he knew not what.

The mosque approached out of the distance, just a tiny dot at first. It grew in size as he bore down upon it, already alert to the mischief springing up in the night, recognizing where he was needed that night.

He approached cautiously, sure that something was amiss. He saw a van parked in front of the building. A man approached the temple. By the rising light of the moon, Black Dove saw the glint of a gun.

The night air had not been entirely still, but as he swung down on his line, gunshots rang out. At the same time that screaming came from the mosque, the night air fell still. He had to act quickly. He didn’t hesitate.

Black Dove crashed boldly through the front doors of the mosque, the echo of their being forced open reverberating on the stone walls. Candles flickered all around the room. Pooled on the floor were various robed worshippers, some of them women covered in Hijab, Niqab, or Burqa. They were crying, some of them hiding in the shadows of the mosque, others protecting the bodies of those that had fallen. So far, he could only see three bodies resting there unmoving, the stones around them colored crimson.

He took in every detail that he could in an instant, acutely aware of everyone in the room, acutely aware of his own senses and internal functions. He was still riding what he had just experienced. He felt alight, aglow with something Holy.

In a whirl of fury, eyes crazed, the shooter lashed his attention towards him. They locked eyes. 

Black Dove could see a semi-automatic weapon in his hand, but it had seemed by its sounds in the still night to be set to single shots. He thought it was a cowardly thing to be using. He had seen Batman take down super villains without ever firing a shot. He transcended his rage, filled with so much compassion after his praying. It seemed to still be going on in his heart, those prayers reaching out into the space, filling it with their desires for peace and stillness, for understanding and compassion.

The man, head covered in a black hood, angrily pulled it away from himself in the stillness of the mosque, revealing his identity. Every eye was fixated on the hero that had just bounded into the building. The pale man, white hair clinging to his head in whisps, narrowed his eye on Black Dove. The shooter started to laugh.

“Boy, this city is just full of you freaks, idn’t it?! Well, brown boy, ya here to try to save these Kebabs?!” He waited for a reply before firing several shots into the air. “Are you?!” Various persons screamed. 

Damian did not yet hear sirens in the distance, but he knew that this would be over soon. He was in perfect line of sight of the perpetrator. He had a slew of new toys in his white down utility belt, but even as he straightened himself up, he found himself knowing that he wasn’t going to use them this time. Though he had geared his new utility belt to better accommodate various ninja arts, he had no need for them now. There wouldn’t be time to draw anything anyway. He needed to make a decision quickly. He decided to give his life for these people. He would stand no matter what would come of it.

From his perspective, the room nearly crackled with the electricity of his concentration.

“You don’t want to do this. You have to stop.” was Black Dove’s reply. He stood his ground.

His heart was still pounding from the fear that he had felt earlier, and from the elation. It seemed like time had pressed together into a point and was about to pierce the veil of reality. The palpitation in the room grew, the psychotic man going into a rant about muslims and the purity of his country. He quickly lost steam, bowled over by the intensity of Black Dove.

The fool was clearly a crazed racist, no doubt stirred by the unfortunate political situations the world had seemed to find itself in once again in this century.

Black Dove listened, not hearing another shooter yet, still not hearing sirens. In that moment, his calculating and pontificating seemed to melt away. He was about to act. Only God could protect him now. How fitting.

“Hey, freak, are you dead?! You’re about to be!! Answer me?! Are you too stupid to understand basic English, like these Hajis?!” Spittle flew from his mouth as he pointed his gun at a nearby woman, who was collapsed in powerless sobs. Several members of the congregation gasped and appealed to the shooter, begging him not to kill her.

Damian made the slightest movement and something changed in the air. He repeated what he had already said to the man. The shooter felt what had shifted in the room, his eyes going wide for a moment. He seemed afraid but determined to carry out his dark purposes. He may have felt something slipping away from him then.

“You don’t want me to shoot these sand beasts, eh, fairy boy?! How dare you stand there and judge me! This ends here!”

He raised his gun to point right at Black Dove’s face. Damian could feel his heart beating in his own ears. He could hear the pleas and the gasps of those around him, willing the shooter not to fire. It was already too late though. The gunman pulled the trigger.

That was all anyone knew.

As the shot rang out into the mosque, some of the worshippers there held onto their ears. Some of them had collapsed into prayerful submission. There were more screams and more sobs. The man had shot cleanly at Black Dove. 

By a miraculous twist of fate, the bullet had missed its mark. The gunman could obviously not believe his eyes.

Damian stood there in defiance of any more carnage, melting away into the moment, filled with compassion.

He started towards the shooter, praying in his heart for sanity in the man, and yet perfectly still in his heart, not thinking. His entire focus was on helping this man to transcend his guilt, and yet, his focus was on everything and on nothing. He simply was.

“WHAT?!?” the man cried, pulling the trigger again, causing screams all around him. Some, however, had turned their attention onto Black Dove as he methodically and slowly began to make his way towards the white-supremacist. His being was singular, his boots echoing out eerily against the stone floor of the mosque as they clicked down step by step.

Neither bullet had passed even near Damian. He kept up his slow encroachment on the man who was aiming to take his life.

It was amazing how far the man had made it into the mosque. Damian saw now that several others were bleeding. Normally, this would have sickened him. At that moment, this knowledge fueled his growing desire to see peace. He was here for salvation regardless of any cost that state may precipitate.

The shooter, now clearly panicking, fumbled with the switch for full auto. Not able to switch it in his panic, cursing at the gun, slapping his hand against it, he aimed at the white symbol on Black Dove’s chest and fired again.

Black dove had little tactical armor to speak of. What little he had certainly would not have stopped a bullet of that caliber from that distance.

Four shots. Five shots. Damian was less than thirty feet away now. Almost everyone in the mosque had stopped crying or stopped praying. They were watching the exchange that was miraculously taking place before them. Black Dove heard the word Allah muttered under the breath of several people. Some were gaping at him with open mouths. Still, he pressed forward, even more slowly now, each step deliberate, each motion measured and perfect.

“Subhanallah.” someone exclaimed. “Mashallah.” another whispered.

Six shots. Seven. Eight. Nine. All pointed directly at Black Dove. There was no way they could have missed him, and yet, they did. There were no ricochets. Nobody else was hit either. They simply missed him. Even when one of the bullets burst a mosaic window near the front of the temple, nobody made a sound, though Damian knew that the people here were praying and praising God. He could feel it.

The shooter’s eyes had gone as wide as they could go. He had blanched so hard that he looked in danger of collapsing. “What… what are you, freak?” the man almost whispered as he slowly lowered the gun to his side, mesmerized by the young man’s approach. The slur that he’d uttered had absolutely no power in it. Black Dove could see that the man was already considering his actions, his mind whirring with a small taste of the activity that Damian had embraced not even two hours prior to that exchange.

Black Dove kept approaching. Damian was almost close enough now to kiss him now. The man was trembling, racked with a newfound guilt, his eyes locked onto Black Dove’s, whose own seemed ablaze with serenity and piercing concentration in the midst of black and white that surrounded them. They looked devastatingly soft.

“I’m just a human being. Like you.” He said into the face of the offender, his voice so calm and sweet that he almost did not recognize it as his own. “Put the gun down, and we’ll pray for you.”

The man temporarily grit his teeth, a flash of anger sweeping over him, but he quickly obliged. Two woman screamed softly as the shooter’s gun clattered to the floor at his feet. Black Dove kicked it away. It went skittering across the floor, safely away from everyone.

The man, moved by what had just happened, shaking, tears building in his eyes, had seemed to regain some of his sanity. Damian wondered how long it had been since the man had embodied a clear perspective.

The murderer hesitated for what could not have been more than four seconds before sinking on his knees gently to the ground. Several muslims slid forward then, prostrating themselves around the two figures to begin praying. Others had taken up prayer by then already. Some were smiling in pained relief. Some clutched at their hearts and muttered mantras some of the likes of which Damian recognized.

He laid his gloved hands gracefully on the sides of the head of the shooter, who was still quaking, eyes wide and confused. He was looking around at the blood on the floor, eyes darting to see others bleeding. When his eyes rested on those praying for him, he started sobbing. He seemed to sort of crumple into himself then, collapsing internally, eyes finally overcome with enough grief to reach the point of closing.

Sirens could then be heard wailing in the distance, rapidly approaching. The whole exchange had taken less time than anyone present would have believed. Though it had happened rapidly, time had seemed to slow then, relishing in the movements of the scene, and in the deep pain of it.

Black Dove was gripped in the tight encompassing power of what he would come to regard as one of the most powerful religious experiences that he would ever have. It was as if a multitude of angels were surrounding them all, praying and whispering for the salvation and atonement of all present.

In that moment, space melted away. Only the prayers of those present could be felt. Only love and gratitude filled the place. The spell seemed only to sway when the second shooter entered the mosque, exclaiming a racist slur, caught off guard by the scene he was encountering. He raised his gun to fire on Black Dove, but at that moment, the hero turned his head, white hair powerfully lit under the glory of the mosque.

The moment that he caught eyes with the shooter, the man dropped his gun and fell to his knees, overcome by the palpable presence in the room. Several people rushed forward and began to pray for him quietly, placing their hands on him. 

One woman took the gun and threw it, skittering, across the floor. The second shooter swore, looking around in a confused daze, still wearing his black mask. Even with it on, he looked horrified and shaken. He crawled backwards until he was against a stone wall. Then, he wrapped his arms around his knees and tucked his head down into them, rocking softly, muttering to Christ to help him.

Again, in normal circumstances, Damian would have been quite upset at the hypocrite’s usage of such a Holy name, but in that instance, he simply prayed along with the man, wishing him well.

The police inevitably entered to find the two assailants on their knees, crying, wave after wave of love and forgiveness pouring forth from every heart that was not the two. As the armed unit filtered into the room quietly, almost reverently, pulling some to their feet, the medics arrived, rushing in to the aid of those fallen on the floor. Damian Wayne would later learn that not a single soul left the world in that mosque that night, despite several being badly wounded. 

Their recovery was even remarkable. One man healed so quickly that she did not even have scars.

As the heat of the moment dissipated and what seemed to be reality settled back in, the two shooters were hand-cuffed and lead away. Black Dove turned to leave, having stayed much longer than he would have in any similar situation.

Some of the officers balked at his escape, half-heartedly telling him to stay and answer questions.

One of the officers, a black woman who appeared to be in her forties, grabbed his arm and asked who he was.

“Black Dove.” he said quietly, pulling away easily. Her grip had loosened the moment she had touched him and felt whatever it was that was still radiating off of him.

Prayers and blessings unto his name followed him out of the mosque and out into the night.

~~~~~~~

Many miles away, on a quiet farm just outside of Metropolis, Jonathan Kent flew in midair high above the world. He was so high, in fact, that he was quite convinced that only a passing plane could have spotted him. All around him, the sun was setting as he stayed fixed at a point meditating in half-lotus position.

He really wasn’t supposed to fly much this close to the farm, but something had told him that he would be quite fine to do so on that particular day, so he had thrown caution and himself into the wind.

He was dressed only in thin shorts and a white shirt. At that altitude, the air was thin and cool, but he did not mind. He had been drawn into meditation that day, feeling as though something significant to his life were happening far away, probably with Damian. Instead of Remotely Viewing whatever it was, however, he had decided to meditate on the Hindu and Taoist Scriptures that he had been reading.

Another school year was rapidly closing. It had almost been a year since Damian had gracefully confessed his love to the younger boy. Jon had admitted to himself long ago that he had in some small way feared that his best friend had gotten too old to date him or to be interested in him in that way. He was still deeply grateful that had not been the case.

It had been one of the passing worries that he'd had that he'd not been all the way conscious of at the time he'd had it. Looking back, especially after meditating so regularly for so many months, it was so much easier for Jon to see how much hiding he did from himself. That had led him to think that many others were doing likewise and were probably even unaware of it, as he had been. 

He did not want to hide from himself, or from Damian. He loved so many souls so deeply.

So, to not hide from himself, Jon had been spending the last weeks meditating twice a day up through his chakras. Actually, he wasn't entirely sure that his body functioned the same way as ancient human tradition because of his Kryptonian physiology, but it had seemed alright so far.

The first chakra seemed to be rooted in the earth and survival, so he meditated a lot outdoors and a lot around the animals on the farm. He had begun to meditate imagining a tropical forest. Eventually, over the course of the week, he had cultivated an entire ocean and many fields of flowers.

He'd even experienced a meditation session at the end of the week in which he'd felt that he'd connected to many people doing similar out in metropolis and out in the greater world. They had sort of all been sitting cross legged in a huge field of rolling hills and bliss. He took note of some of the faces, and a week later, even ran into one of the women he'd seen in that space.

She had smiled at him then, but he didn't think she'd recognized him. For one, very few others had seemed to share the experience the way he had. For two, when she ran into him, he'd been wearing his glasses. When he'd been in that space, he had not been wearing any.

To meditate in the sacral chakra, he'd wandered in his mind into the ocean that he'd seemingly created since the chakra, seated about an inch above the groin, had an association with water. All week in that one, he'd had sudden giggle fits that would last for quite some time. Towards the end of the week, he'd had several prolonged sessions in which he could practically feel all of the sex that he and Damian had ever had together all at once throughout his physical self.

He'd spent those sessions wonderfully erect, and though he'd only ejaculated on one experience from that (sans contact), he'd mentally orgasmed several times, his anus tightening and shivering, feeling the phantom in his memories of his lover's tongue at one moment, his erection in the next.

That chakra hadn't been all about sex though. He found that it was also associated with creativity. He'd drawn several pictures that week with a skill that seemed sharpened somehow. It had seemed focused.

The next chakra had dealt with fire and willpower, so he'd gone out on a limb and sent a message to the Green Lantern. To Jon's luck, the hero had been on planet visiting his wife, so he had agreed to meet with the Kents to discuss Will with the young hero. The exchange had been quite enlightening. Superboy had even felt like some of his own answers to the Lantern’s questions had really made the older hero consider things in a new light.

His mother had made a very nice lunch for all of them, too, since the Lantern's wife had come along with him. They'd made a really nice time of it. Clark Kent had thanked his son afterwards for arranging such a pleasant get together.

In his meditations that week though, he'd thought back to the show Avatar: The Last Airbender (one of his and Damian's favourites while they were growing up), and he'd imagined himself like the fire Lord, surrounded by high flames. He had let these flames wash over his person, in his mind, while he contemplated his upcoming and previous life choices.

Naturally, he found himself thinking about adulthood. He wondered about what he and Damian were going to do after Jon graduated highschool. Damian had decided to fast-track himself out of formalized school a couple of years ago. He knew that his boyfriend was driven and had received some sort of Bachelor’s degree already, being well on his way towards his doctorate in Criminology, but Jon wasn’t sure how he felt about college. One didn’t exactly pay the bills with being a Superhero though, so it was something to consider.

Damian had, of course, offered to foot a lot of their living expenses. Jon had many pairs of sexy and expensive underwear, books, and gadgets to prove his lover’s commitment to taking care of him materially, but Jon wanted something to fall back on; he wanted to carry his own weight.

The young Wayne was getting involved in his father’s business ventures, striking out onto his own, forging legal avenues as he remained an integral part of the new Amends Program. Jon found himself thinking about reiki healing and agriculture. He might even want to explore photography or ethnography.

In any case, it was becoming clear to both youths that to counter violent measures, they would need to be socially and politically involved in their communities, and that would have to involve all species, not just human beings.

Damian had seemed to have adapted to that line of thinking already by developing an ability similar to that of Anna Breytenbach or Miranda Alcott. He seemed to empathize with Jon’s farm animals to the point that they would have entire mental conversations. It wasn’t quite telepathy, or if it was, it was telepathy of a different variety. His beautiful partner had even helped him to learn a bit of it.

His boyfriend had talked about mind/heart connections and about feeling out the intentions of other lifeforms. Jon had been so delighted to discover that the young Wayne seemed to have such a natural talent for the phenomenon. It left Jon wondering how much of life people were missing out on every day simply because they didn’t know that they were missing out on anything.

He breathed out and focused on his meditation.

After his exploration of earth, water, and fire, and after his adventures with Damian Wayne, he felt refreshed and ready for something new and deep. He moved into his center.

The heart chakra was associated with air, and since this was his last session before he was prepared to move up into the throat chakra, he'd found it fitting to rise up as high as he could manage to connect with one of his favorite elements in the world.

To fly so high above the world was so freeing, though being with Black Dove was just as freeing. He knew about Damian’s decision to transition into a new alter-ego, and Jonathan approved of it. Damian had even sent him video of himself wearing the brand new suit. It was quite attractive.

But that wasn't the focus of his meditation, so he let the thought float away out into the wind. He let everything float away then, letting whatever was behind or within or above his physical body expand itself outward into the world. 

He wanted then so deeply to support his partner, but in the end, he let go of that also, emptying himself of whatever he could.

Hues of orange and gold painted the innocent boy as the sun sank in the horizon. Jon felt himself pulled intensely into the meditation. He was pulled in so intensely, in fact, that he would remain in that state for several hours, even into and past when the shooting would take place in Gotham. And as he deepened into himself, into that great place of incredible stillness, he started to sense the world in a new way.

All of his cultural preconceptions melted away into the sky, and a unity began to emerge in his consciousness. Swirls of color and light parted to let his heart explore the clarity of that profound stillness. His being opened so widely.

Within that stillness, he began to feel stirrings of life. He began to feel hopes and dreams and intentions that were all out there striving together to create the things that he happily called his home. He supposed that the experience could almost have been overwhelming had he not let go and surrendered himself to being the small part of the whole unity that he was. Still, the love and joy that he began to feel were truly overwhelming.

Though change seemed to occur even as he observed the world this way, he could reflect on the unity of it all. He could see why the idea of dependant origination would not seem out of the question of a world model. He could see why so much of what seemed different and obscure would fit together and be right.

In his focus, shapes slowly gave rise to form and presence. He felt as if the whole world was responding to him, and he to the world. He found that he could feel outwards into the experiences of others, and as he touched them with his heart, tears began to flow openly down his cheeks. The stars whispered to him. Everything was alive with purpose and meaning and beauty. It was as if he were just then experiencing everything for the first time, or at least in a way that didn't attach labels and definitions to the world.

He became lost in a sea of being.

In the Bhagavad Gita, he had read about Arjuna's vision of Krishna in His Divine form and about how terrifying and vast it had all seemed. He was having a similar experience that certainly was frightening in its own way, or could have been, but Jonathan Kent found that within all of that, there was a sort of heartbeat. There seemed to be a thread of reassuring consistency and love that comforted him in a way that nothing else ever had (and he'd grown up around Superman and the son of Batman).

While he was in that space, a part of him reached out and saw a bit of the violence and bloodshed that Black Dove was out there encountering, even though Jon had not intended of Remotely Viewing him that night. He wanted to give his partner room to flourish and to grow.

Despite that, he saw Black Dove with his hands on the head of a man who was suffering deeply in his spirit.

In that instant, Jon prayed for those that had fallen, and for those that had not. To him, it seemed like his intentions and thoughts were so clear and so bright that they sutured a few of the wounds that some had incurred. Jon was so full of wonder and beauty that their wounds just healed away.

He felt the presence of higher entities bearing down on the scene, welcoming and guiding Superboy’s heart into usefulness.

All of that took place in a small percentage of what the boy felt as his heart opened and his chest filled up with heat so as to rival the cold of the fallen night.

Sure, he could have let himself get wrapped up in the fear of mortality, and he could have been terribly attached to his thoughts and his desires. He could have been afraid for Damian. But really, in his deepest thoughts, he was just grateful. He was grateful for all of the things that he’d been able to be a part of, that they’d been a part of, and that they would now get to be a part of going forward simply by consequence of existing.

He could have dwelled on the sporadic nature of it all, but he saw no reason to do that. There was a tremendous consistency, an unrivaled continuity of all that had ever been from the first pale moments of spacetime all the way up through what he could have thought was eternity, and he was just Jonathan Kent, grateful for his part in all that was and would be.

His presence echoes out into the greater cosmos, the cosmos echoing out into his very being, loosening all that Superboy was and could be.

When his experience had peaked and concluded, he found himself wiping his eyes, sniffing in the freshness of the cool air. The stars were all dancing and twinkling like the sea of lights below in the distance, nearer than near and yet separated by timespace. He stayed there like that for a long while, taking in the world in its profound being, feeling connected in such an intimate way that he could have been a lover with all that is and was.

Somewhere very nearby, he heard the cry of an eagle and its mate, no doubt crying their love to the same world that he had been admiring just then.

He took that as his queue to land and glided softly back to the world of which he was a part, in no particular hurry, emptied momentarily of his own being.

As he softly and gracefully set foot back on the ground of their little farm, listening to the sounds of the insects and farm creatures, appreciating their lifeforms, lost in the rapture of glorious, free sensation, he saw two bright feathers circling one another high up in the air. 

It was a gift that spoke to his heart about the adventure on which he was embarking with Damian Wayne. Their adventure was so different than the ones that he had been on while wearing bright red and blue. Their adventure was love.

He looked up to the moon and the sky, knowing that something out there was right in the cosmos, knowing that his boyfriend was safe, knowing that he would never be the same person that he had been. He supposed though, that that was true at every moment: everyone was new at every moment.

While he was taking all of this in, smelling the smells, feeling the fragility of mortality and the absolute wonder of it, smile on his face, he heard the cry of the eagle again, seeing the two feathers twirl gracefully to the ground some hundred feet away from him.

He made a mental note to find those two feathers in the morning. He knew that they’d be there waiting for him when the time was right for him to accept them, and he was not wrong.

They were there waiting for him then, as was a new day.


	9. Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Jon and Damian are spending some time with Cyborg at Teen Titans Tower. The trio decides to go on a mission with Beast Boy, during which they fall into trouble. Enjoy~

The summer had really gotten underway. Victor Stone found that after the long year of data research and thermodynamics experiments, Titan Tower felt like a little bit of nostalgic home.

Time had changed him from a man into something more. Its passage continued to bring new opportunities to his life that he had not previously mused upon.

He had spent a lot of his past thirteen months engaged with various political entities, helping them to encrypt, analyze, and secure data. Data encryption had been one of the first significant projects that he had worked on in order to make his mind and its secrets safe from cyber-attacks and leaks while he utilized the internet mentally. He was, of course, quite unwilling to share the incredible advancements that had led him to the state that he found himself in, but he was willing to help some agencies to secure their data from hostile interests. He helped them to explore new avenues in directions not altogether compatible with his own private means of security.

As a private rule, he stayed far away from militaristic endeavours, but he had aided many organizations and private companies to advance the development of prosthetics decades ahead of when they would have made these discoveries on their own. That made him feel accomplished.

It was common knowledge that he had resented his father’s, Silas Stone’s, decision to save him from death by turning him into the being now known to his friends as Cyborg, but over the years, he had adapted to and even learned to appreciate the transformation. He had since reconnected with his father, and while their relationship was not what it had been, there was a new warmth to it as well as mutual scientific respect.

Victor had to admit to himself that he had been quite caught up in warfare efforts against supervillains for most of his earlier teens, and while that had proved useful, he was coming to understand some of the deep and intricate potentials that his unique situation posed for the rest of humanity. He was coming to understand that force was not enough.

Out of all of his efforts to encrypt information and to hack into whatever remote data silo that he chose to, there arose the need for data analytics, which had been his second most significant contribution to his new being. With the constant influx of data at his disposal, and with the limitations of his cognitive evolution, he had found that he needed help to navigate the endless sea of information that he could access. He needed help deciphering patterns and predicting projections. He called some of these programs the Oracle, referencing the famous Matrix movies, of which he was an adamant fan. With many of its advents now in his metaphorical tool kit, he had slowly begun to disseminate these innovations into different markets and business entities.

Some of these programs had yielded unique insight into the stock market, which he had allowed himself to benefit from only to the extent that he found his participation ethical and not infringing upon the success of companies or their investors. He had let some of these trends influence various markets that he wanted to see succeed, and with his newfound leverage, he was able to flex a little bit of muscle against companies that he found destructive or negligent of human, animal, or ecological rights. He had even been able to stop several efforts within foreign nations to sway the public perception with data bots and spamming efforts. Economy was a front on which the battle for public salvation was waged every day, so he chose to participate rather than shy away from it. A hero had to dig deep to stay relevant.

He would like to think that he was doing his part to help their species overcome the biases and stigmas that they had adapted over millennia. For him, it wasn’t about the money. His father had financed Teen Tower more or less indefinitely, and Victor’s business dealings had been especially lucrative, so he did not find the need to worry about any of that.

Jonathan Kent had mentioned the somewhat dramatic shift that he had taken away from white and chrome specialized enhancements in favor of muted bronze and black bio-mechanical components, which had made Mr. Stone smile. Jon, having grown up around Superman, understood something about hiding and about a man keeping in touch with his truest identity.

While he had access to prosthetics technologies that could have allowed Victor to alter his mechanical components to be virtually identical to the biological structures of his youth, he found that he liked looking a bit like a robot. He was, in fact, a bit of a robot, so why hide it? In that, he found that he wanted to honor his own biological heritage by making his advanced biology look more similar to his skin, hence the bronze and black.

Plus, in all honesty, he just enjoyed the aesthetic. He was making great money, and he wanted to feel more like the savvy businessman that he had become and less like some crime-fighting hero out of a comic book. Being black and bronze helped him to feel like he had achieved that. He had, oddly enough, retained some of his humanity by entertaining the look of his cybernetic parts.

Maintaining aspects of what he considered to be his former reality was very important to Cyborg as he continued to mature. His relationship with the Titans had been incredibly cathartic and deeply necessary for his state of well-being, but, like all humans coming out of puberty, he yearned to grow. After using a lot of time being basically a regular genius super-hero, he had begun to wonder if there was something more to himself than just telling jokes with Beast Boy and ignoring some of the areas of his new self that he had not fully explored.

Thus dawned a period of time in which he had been more invested in the cybernetic aspects of what he had become. He had done his best to surrender a lot of his emotional impulses to a more automatic processing of data. He invented and coded and comprehended so much in that period, but he had eventually reached the conclusion that this had seemed to put him in a sort of self-induced hypnagogic state. He grew out of that, too.

It was not a long-lived interval of his life, but it was certainly interesting to note. He expected that a part of that period had been born in reaction to the trauma of becoming half-man and half-machine that he had never quite processed previously. So, he had done his absolute best to work through that and other traumas over the last few years, focusing heavily on his psychological development as much as he had time to. He had the insight in what he considered his brief “machine-period” that he was more of an aromantic asexual, so that had freed up a lot of his time and thinking. Without all of the pressure of teenage development to copulate, and without the attraction that he had inspired from his peers previously, he had been free to explore that aspect of himself. It was liberating.

As he continued to age and to being more self-aware, it was quite apparent that his mind was changing. It was obvious in hindsight that constant exposure to the internet would allow for some re-wiring of his basic cognitive abilities, but that was really only the beginning of what he was experiencing. An interesting progression in his own evolution was his freshly invigorated ability to store and track his own brain activity, conversations, and decisions, and then to analyze that data to predict trends or to find new solutions to his life-orientation.

He even found that he was able to span his attention more clearly across many focal points in his awareness. He had cultivated the habit to be reading or watching a podcast while having a conversation with others or while going about his various dealings in the business world. He was able to Google information, to analyze Google results, and to categorize and assimilate data quite quickly in terms of human processing, so he always had an interesting contribution to make to practically any conversation.

At first, of course, as he had adapted to having multiple experiences all at once, he had used the ability to listen to a lot of music (mostly synthwave), and to watch many sci-fi movies (among which Her and Robocop were two of his favourites), but that had gradually waned. He now used a lot of his multi-focus capacity to keep up with his correspondence with famous scientists, physicists, and engineers all around the world. He kept up with his research interests and had even learned some written Cantonese and some Cyrillic through all of the work he had done with others.

In order for Victor to help himself in processing all of this information while remaining a feeling, emotional creature, he had worked with scientists like Eben Alexander, a world-travelling neuroscientist that had undergone a powerful Near Death Experience while clinically brain-dead. Eben had gone on to teach the world about NDE’s and to publicize audio entrainment programs that he had created in order to facilitate certain states of consciousness.

Victor had experimented previously with audio programs that elicited responses in the human brain similar to a plethora of substance-induced states, and he had utilized the experiences of a psilocybin-like state to further his adaptations to his normal resting consciousness, but Dr. Alexander had specifically been able to help him to induce very deep states of focus, concentration, reflection, and transcendentalism in order for him to work through his traumas of years of hero work, including the experience that had initially transformed him into the hero known as Cyborg. His mother had died in the accident that had nearly succeeded in ending his own life. Some of his favorite mental wallpapers were images of her that he had programmed to cycle through his consciousness when he had moments to rest and let his mind wander according to its desires.

Even in all of his new mental glory, down-time was still important and played a large role in his maintaining cognitive plasticity.

With all of his and Dr. Alexander’s advancements, he sometimes felt like a character in a Philip K. Dick novel. He often thought back to the wife of the main protagonist in Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?, who was portrayed at the beginning of the novel ‘programming’ in the morning the experiences and emotional states that she would feel and have throughout the day. Victor knew that his situation was a little more complicated than hers, but still: he greatly empathized with the characters in that novel in particular. Eben had said that was a reasonable way to feel about the whole thing. They both wanted to feel fully and deeply, not artificially.

The increased stimuli had altered his mental capacities so that, while still limited by basic human biology, he was able to process data more akin to a machine. Ben Geortzel, one of his newest and most flattering friends, often referred to him as the “Mechanical Missing Link.” Nick Bostrom had been in correspondence with him also, wondering about his new cognitive abilities and warning him against sharing too much of those explorations too readily with the surrounding world. Goertzel, who was fascinated with the changes that Cyborg had undergone, had invited him to China frequently throughout the last two years in order to study any bit of mechanical or brain-wave related data that Cyborg had been willing to give him. He was incredibly driven to forge what he called an ‘Artificial General Intelligence.’

At the moment, Artificial Intelligence was narrow, specialized to perform certain tasks or to perform within certain environments. Some of the most advanced AI programs could learn to play Chess or even Go better than any human player but were still incapable of forming interrelated meanings from concepts or of having even simple conversations with a human user. Goertzel felt that he would be able to use Cyborg’s own brain mapping data to change all of that.

Having forged strong financial relationships with Elon Musk, and having developed friendships with prominent figures such as Sam Harris and Steven Hawking, Victor Stone was quite careful to only share what he thought most prevalent with anyone, even with his friend Ben Goertzel. Having observed the potentially radical changes that he had undergone in a relatively short period of time, and having read books by writers such as Roger Penrose and Stuart Russel, he was reluctant to contribute wholeheartedly to what many in the field of Artificial Intelligence called the Event Horizon of Singularity, from which there would be no return for humanity or any species. It was quite possible that the world would experience this within Victor’s lifetime, but he did not want to rush things along quite too quickly.

Some balked at the dangers of Artificial Intelligence, and others recoiled from them in terror, but Cyborg, being somewhat of a bridge between the two thought-camps, was going with the flow while regulating it to the extent that he deemed important, guided by the direction of some of his newest friends and colleagues. Elon Musk certainly thought that humanity was already well on their way to being a race of cyborgs, but there needed to be caution taken with their proceeding. People were already plugged in, taking advantage of a taste some of the things that he was experiencing, but technology of such an extreme magnitude could certainly be abused. He thought of Nick Bostrom’s argument about a super intelligence that was motivated only to create paperclips. Essentially, a machine intelligence like that could wield massive mental prowess only to turn the world and all things in it into paperclips. Living in the world of super powers and people in tights, Victor knew quite readily that individuals could use such an advanced medium for much more devastatingly nefarious purposes. That was why he was ultimately much more interested in developing what he thought of as Artificial Sentient Consciousness, secretly beyond Goertzel’s aspirations of simple Artificial General Intelligence.

Consciousness would change and evolve, as all things seemed to do, but he wanted to have a hand in creating something positive that would not throw the world into a dark age. He did not want egomaniacal ambitions to be a factor in the birth of a new form of sentience, which is why he had done research with teams working with people like the Dalai Lama. He and they wanted to help ensure that any AI, AGI, or ASC that would be created would also have or develop morality and ethics that would not preclude the survival of their species from the interests of this new race of beings. In the meantime, Mr. Stone wanted to explore his humanity and develop that to the best of his ability with the aid of all that he had learned and become.

So there he was, in the kitchen at Teen Titans Tower, appropriating his English-speaking skills to have a dialogue with Superboy himself, the young Jonathan Kent. Jon was staying over for part of his summer break. The two lovers had been frequenting a nearby pool.

As they talked, Cyborg was quite aware that Jon and his boyfriend had also gone through their fair share of transformation in the past twelve months. Jon was concluding his seventh week meditating up through his chakras, this being the last day of his focusing on his crown chakra. Jon seemed to be radiating a sort of mystery and charisma that enhanced his already pleasant disposition.

While Damian had not opened up with everything that he had experienced, it was clear that it had changed him. It sincerely made Victor think of programs in the Matrix after they faced deletion: parts of them were the same, but they were ultimately changed, never to be the same again.

Change was the way of things, so Cyborg had no issue with it. It had simply been an adjustment getting used to Damian. Sure, he could open up and babble when he really felt comfortable or had something interesting to say, but now he seemed much softer and quieter. Much calmer. It suited him. It was also as if Jon had imparted some of his sunny personality to Black Dove, though Victor had heard rumors that he had become even more intimidating and awe inspiring under his new persona.

Damian was still quite knowledgeable, an aspect that Cyborg had always admired about him. Even with his access to the internet, Victor found Damian so well-read that it was eerie. He assumed that Black Dove spent a lot of his free time studying various subjects at a fast pace. Victor even found himself thinking that Damian would benefit from an increased ‘bandwidth,’ as Elon Musk liked to call human interaction with technological tools.

In this instance, however, Damian seemed to have undergone a stimulation of certain areas of the brain. Victor was aware of the Persinger Koren Helmet that was able to spontaneously generate religious and other experiences in the mind of the wearer. It worked magnetically on the mind to cause a shift into the right hemisphere, which seemed to correlate with ‘presence’ experiences like the one Jon had felt several weeks ago, creating a temporary dissonance between the language centers of the brain, and a shifting of the amygdala.

Cyborg, wanting to support his friends, and genuinely curious, had been studying Todd Murphy and Andrew Newberg to get a good solid grip on what people often called ‘Neurotheology,’ a term apparently introduced to the general public by Aldous Huxley in his novel, The Island.

Newberg often spoke about the quieting of the parietal lobe during animal rituals, of which mating rituals seemed to be the most prevalent in non-human species. The parietal lobe seemed to be ‘responsible’ for visual, language, and body awareness interactions within the mind. It was one of the ‘self centers,’ or areas in the brain responsible for a general sense of the self and the ego.

A quieting of it could induce experiences of oneness like what Superboy had undergone.

“That’s really cool, Victor.” Jon said to Cyborg, making the older man smile. All of his teammates liked to call him Cyborg, but Damian and Jon had picked up on calling him Victor or Mr. Stone. It made him feel very respected.

“Not a lot of research in this area has as of yet been accomplished, unfortunately. It seems like the Council of Trent around the 1600s put a sort of taboo on scientists studying anything that the church dubbed to be a spiritual phenomenon. The church, in return, asserted that they would not study physical matter and the subject of material reality.” He quoted, reading an article about it in his mind.

“I’m just so glad that we can live in a time in which we’re moving beyond those things. Damian’s had so many interesting things to say on the subject. We’ve been having so much fun together learning about all of this stuff.” Jon said, smiling. He was watching Cyborg cook, his chin resting on his hand, his elbow resting on the counter.

Victor was making them Soupe à l'Oignon Gratinée with seared salmon and similarly seared tofu with vegetables. The smells were making Jon smile.

Just then, Damian emerged from the bowels of the Tower wearing a black long-sleeve shirt and grey work-out pants. He had a towel on around his neck, a sure indication of the shower he had just taken.

Without thinking much about it, Cyborg took a mental snapshot and short video of Black Dove, comparing them with data he had collected on the gait and posture of Damian when he had been going as Robin. His movements seemed less rigid now. While he still demanded attention and respect, there was a more natural ease in his stride these days. Damian had also developed a sort of snarky playfulness that had been surprising the members of the Teen Titans lately. Victor smiled at the couple. He knew they were about to be cute, and Victor actually appreciated it.

Sure enough, Damian walked up behind the younger boy, who had lit up, and snaked his arm around his waist, pulling him in for a short kiss before turning to Victor with a deep inhale. They were both smiling, Jonathan blushing more than Damian. It was rare to see Damian so loose with his emotions. In any other circumstances, it could have been unnerving.

“Victor, that smells great.” Damian said, sniffing in the smells again. “Could you be sure to send that recipe to Alfred? I’m sure he could make a great variation of this for us some time.”

Victor smiled, hesitating for a brief moment. “Done.” Email sent. Victor certainly had no issues with his amount of mental band-width.

“We were just talking about Neurotheology, hun. Victor was sharing some neat research on the Council of Trent, too.” Jon said, looking at Damian with his melodious grin. Victor flipped the salmon.

"We were talking about religious experiences and how they alter the brain. I guess you could say that I have a ghost in the machine about it." Cyborg joked, talking about René Descartes for a moment.

“I’ve been reading some about panpsychism when I have the time. Have you done much reading on that, Victor?” Damian asked. Victor had, of course, studied materialism and and its alternatives rather extensively. A conversation started about Quantum Mechanics and perception. John Hagelin and Henry Stapp were mentioned several times.

They all smiled and laughed while they talked and eventually ate together. The young couple complimented Victor on his cooking several times, which Cyborg appreciated. He still had that touch. About halfway through the meal, Beast Boy and Aqualad showed up, Beast Boy guffawing at something Aqualad had said.

“This Max Planck article that I was reading--” Victor had been saying, just as the doors to the Tower’s main room opened.

“Alright, well sorry to hear it, dude. I guess I’ll catch you later.” Garfield Logan was saying to Aqualad. “Hey, it’s the love birds!” he called, turning into a green dove to fly over to and around the heads of Jon and Damian, tweeting in a singsong fashion.

“Hey, there’s plenty to eat if you want to stay for lunch. No sense going around on an empty stomach.” Victor called to Aqualad.

“No, that’s alright, really. I’ve got a previous engagement I’m running late for. I’ll talk to you all later.” He said. With that, he turned and was gone, the doors closing automatically behind him.

“I’ll eat!” Garfield said, grabbing a plate and helping himself, taking a deep whiff of the tofu.

“Hey, guys, do you think after lunch, you could all help me on a mission over by the wharf? Aqualad and I traced some illegal fur smugglers to a warehouse down there, but he had to leave before we could go check it out. It should be a really easy bust, you know?” Beast Boy said, sitting down at the counter with his friends to start stuffing his face.

Victor, without much conscious effort, drummed up satellite footage of the area, building schematics, and police log data on the area and the businesses that operated there? He mentioned an address, honing in on one of the warehouses down there.

“Yeah, that’s the one! They’ve been illegally handling ivory and tiger pelts, and I want to take them down now that we’ve gotten their main supplier in Africa arrested.” Beast Boy said, chowing down on some rice, veggies, and tofu.

“Oh, how was your trip, Beast Boy?! Did you get all of the crooks you were looking for?” Jon said excitedly. While they started talking about the trip, Damian and Victor started making a plan. They would go before dusk.

Victor needed to get back to his business exploits, but he had a day or so to kick back with the Titans, and since Black Dove and his boyfriend were hanging out, he decided even more that another night or two sleeping over would do him some good. Besides, it sounded like Beast Boy and Aqualad had gathered a lot of intel on the building and on the organization that was holed up there, so he was up for a little light crime fighting.

After lunch was over, they cleaned up the dishes and put away the leftovers before heading to their changing room to suit up. Cyborg had ascertained that it looked like the warehouse was mostly unoccupied between certain hours, so they decided to just move on the target sooner rather than later.

They figured this would be an easy take-down. Standard mission: gather the evidence, confiscate the contraband, and round up any of the perpetrators. The ride in Cyborg’s team car did not take long, and they easily detained the four armed guards that were stationed throughout the building.

However, when they had started digging into the building’s security network, they found some unnerving evidence linking them to the group that had been at LexCorp last year. They were the same group that had been in the Amazon. They were the group that Nightwing and Supergirl had not been able to track.

“Uh, guys, come take a look at this.” Beast Boy said, shifting through the contents in a box. Superboy went over to take a look at some rather alien-looking purple technology that seemed to be the real items that these criminals had been smuggling. Victor sifted rapidly through external recordings of the building and found no traces of any suspicious or alien activity.

Damian was busy hacking into their main computers. It appeared that the snuggling operation had been something reckless of those criminals to be doing. They were supposed to be working on other exploits. Jon had taken a piece of the technology into his hands and was looking at it with eyes closed, like he was feeling something within it.

“Titans, these are the same villains that trapped Superman a few months ago.” He looked only mildly alarmed. Black Dove was still typing furiously.

“Guys, this smells like a trap.” Beast Boy said, looking around at the group.

“It is.” Black Dove said, finding what he was looking for. Victor zoomed in with his robotic vision and took visual records of what was on the screen just as the walls all turned magenta, the floor suddenly sinking and rapidly plunging them all into darkness.

Cyborg and Superboy had the instinct to fly up out of the corridor they were descending into, but there appeared to be anti-gravity resistors in the flooring preventing anyone from moving their feet. Beast Boy had transformed into a hawk, but he also seemed glued to the floor.

By the time Cyborg cut remotely into the building’s interface to disable the mechanism, it was too late. The floor had closed above them, and they were awash in a soft blue light in the bowels of some sort of secret facility. The walls were a slick chrome blue, seeming to be covered in slender wires that stretched on as far as any of them could see.

Victor felt like a rookie, but he was already hacking the encryption of the site remotely, bypassing several viruses and bugs designed to stop such an occurrence. He was halfway into the schematics when the lights went dark and the red auxiliary lighting came on, making the walls appear to be an eerie lavender color. They had cut the power to the building before he had time to disable that security protocol. Vital systems were down. Security bypasses would have to be completed manually.

He swore softly to himself, thanking his lucky stars that he had at least managed to get access codes to pretty much everything in the building before they had cut him off. He suspected that some of the codes would change now that the power had been cut, but he recalled seeing several algorithms apparently responsible for that transition, and he was already working on cracking them.

“Hey, all, these encryptions are not all from earth. And we have company closing in on our position.” Cyborg stated to the group, wanting to move quickly. Black Dove had been attempting to get the elevator that they were apparently on to get them back to the surface, but to not avail.

"There's a mainframe computer in the center of the complex that we can use to disable the hold force." Cyborg said.

"You don't have to tell me twice." Beast Boy said, transforming into a cheetah and bounding away with Superboy hot on his tail. It wasn't long before gunshots could be heard.

Black Dove and Cyborg were off, bringing up the rear of their little party. He couldn't say for sure, but the diagnostics that Victor had ran convinced him that there were experiments being held in this facility. Those sections of the underground complex had been heavily encrypted. He had not had time to secure that data, though he had secured sections of code that could potentially be deciphered later.

It was amazing to watch Black Dove and Superboy work together. They moved seamlessly through the corridors, barely communicating audibly, yet taking down several guards with ease and with as little force as possible. They worked in harmony with one another, much like they had started doing in their private life. It was impressive to witness.

Superboy saved Beast Boy from getting shot at least twice. The guards in the facility had been trained to kill. Still, the lovers seemed to have compassion for them. Damian was not hitting with the hard intensity that he was known in their group for, but rather, his actions had seemingly become even more focused, his tactics even more carefully considered. He almost seemed to be intuiting the motions of those around him, especially those of Superboy. They were able to work through the hallways with extreme efficiency.

A lock-down sequence eventually initiated, collapsing corridors in on themselves and causing massive metal blast doors to close in on the team. Cyborg and Superboy were able to keep one of them open while their comrades moved through the compound. Navigation became more difficult, but they found their way all the same.

The last unit that had come upon them had been subdued. Unfortunately, one of the armed renegades had shot another member of their unit during the crossfire. Black Dove had stopped and knelt over him then, quiet but seemingly determined. When he had moved away, the guard’s bleeding had stopped. Cyborg took mental notes that he could examine later on the healing that Damian had just performed.

"It's right through there." Cyborg said, pointing down a long black hallway.

Beast Boy, becoming an agile chimp in this last stretch of corridor, was able to leap through a grid of lasers in order to deactivate them. Their way was secure.

"Wait, what kind of a control room doesn't have anyone in it?" Gar asked the group, back in his human form.

"This is a tertiary operating room, so I wouldn't expect coverage. But you're right: all indications of our coming here should have alerted them of our destination." Cyborg surveyed the room rapidly, but it was too late. Some kind of force field had activated.

In an instant, the space that they were occupying was encapsulated in a cube of transparent light. All movement was heavily slowed within the parameters of the field. Beast Boy was being electrocuted, locked in a silent scream, and Cyborg was receiving feedback that was disrupting all of his systems, even his biological ones. He had never felt anything like it.

Light twinkled in a heavy fashion around them, weighing them each down with its intensity. Sound high and bright penetrated their perceptions, flooding them with far too much input. Victor could feel his teeth rattling in his head. The whole space began to turn purple.

As a noxious gas began to fill the space, Cyborg, through the static and confusion, began to move towards Gar, who had begun coughing violently, hunched over. He collapsed, beginning to convulse. Black Dove had seemingly also collapsed onto his face. It was hard for Cyborg to register anything properly, like vital signs, light, or sounds.

Files that he had stored away in his digital memory for him to peruse later at his luxury had begun to open and to play. They were from the Tibetan Book of the Dead:

“O child of noble birth, the time of death has come upon you… the dharmata will appear, pure and clear yet hard to discern... Know this to be the Bardo state… you have no physical body of flesh and blood, so whatever sounds, colors, and rays of light occur, they cannot hurt you and you cannot die… O child of noble family, listen without distraction…”

He wondered vaguely if Jon was familiar with this text as it washed through his mind, disjointed and unclear. His metal parts felt heavy. His thoughts were seizing up.

Before he managed to reach Gar, Victor had collapsed onto his knees, gripping his head in anguish as the gas closed in on them. Whatever it was, it was compelling him to hallucinate. His time working with audio entrainments allowed him to resist what was happening to his psychology, but the gas was affecting his physiology and breathing.

On the verge of losing consciousness, overwhelmed by a tremendous sense of vertigo, Cyborg looked up only to see Superboy several feet off the ground in a half lotus position. His eyes were closed in meditation. Cyborg couldn't believe it.

For a moment, he forgot all of his pain, realizing that Black Dove was still conscious. He was prostrating himself on the ground next to Jon, praying. Cyborg felt like he were coming apart at the seams. How were they so resilient?

Nobody moved. Nobody made any noise. The mysterious gas and bright lights had all but drowned out reality. Then, slowly, dramatically, Superboy extended his legs and stood on his feet still above the ground, his eyes opening slowly.

He stood there, bathed in light, surrounded by swirling gas, before letting out a massive exhale that spun the gas away from him and Damian. In the next instant, he had stepped forward and vanished, almost like he had walked through a doorway that Cyborg could not see.

Suddenly, the gas began to dissipate in earnest, and the field disbursed. Almost as quickly as it had begun, the assault on all of their senses ceased, and Cyborg’s primary systems were coming back online. He realized then that he was coughing, tears streaming down the right side of his face. He looked over to see Superboy some eighty feet away. His hand was on a mechanical lever which he had apparently just pulled.

Before Victor could analyze what had happened, he was being helped to his feet by Damian Wayne.

"Are you alright?" came Black Dove’s voice, softer and sweeter than it usually was. He stared up at the white wig and the white symbol on his chest, wondering what force on this planet could have compelled Damian Wayne of all people to suddenly be so peaceful and passive. He tried to analyze data out of habit, but his systems were still a little scrambled. He felt sick, feeling isolated, too, from his heightened perceptions and querying.

Cyborg took a moment to get his bearings. The shock to his system had been quite intense. He thought back to Superboy moving forward. It had not been an instance of the boy using super speed. That looked quite different. This had been like he had stepped forward into an invisible curtain. Victor was thinking vaguely of Quantum entanglement, the fourth dimension, and the collapse of a wormhole. He closed his eyes for a moment, breathing in, while he activated a calming protocol that Eben Alexander had helped him to work on. He started to gain his perspective again.

Damian was already over helping Beast Boy recover consciousness, wafting smelling salts under his nose and checking his vital signs.

Cyborg could hear Gar moaning, slowly coming to as Jon was floating over to the group, looking serene yet grounded.

Victor looked around at the cold concrete walls of the corridor that they were in. The walls no longer had wires or lights of any kind. The room that Superboy had been in had only that single lever. No sign of the previous tech in the building remained.

Sometimes, being a superhero was weird. Cyborg was glad (if that was the right word) that he had seen stranger occurrences. It had been years since he had been blindsided like that. Some of the parts in his left leg and right arm had burnt out.

Gar rolled over slowly, retching. Cyborg heard him sob for a moment before really coming to.

“Awww, man. That was my lunch.” the green boy said before retching softly again.

“What in the hell just happened?” Cyborg asked the group.

“Whatever it was, they’re gone now.” Jon said, certainly using his xray vision to peer into the rest of the building. “All of the strange tech is gone, too. They’re just gone. Like a shadow.”

“And the guards?” Black Dove asked, standing to his feet, cape falling into place to cover his front.

“I’m guessing they’re gone, too.” Cyborg said. He already knew that he was right.

As they collected themselves and began to walk back to the ‘elevator’ that had brought them down there in the first place, they discovered that the rooms in which experiments had been conducted were not even there. Only the sound of their footsteps reverberating off of the corridors greeted them as they traveled what was certainly a shorter distance than they had previously.

There was now only a single ladder where the elevator had been. It lead up to the warehouse, but once they had crossed through into the interior, the hatch and ladder were gone. There was no sound. Nothing dramatic. The hatch simply existed one moment and then stopped existing in the next moment.

“S-sorry guys. This was supposed to be an easy mission.” Beast Boy said, a little shaken, looking around at the boxes of furs that they had uncovered. The alien tech was no longer there.

“This wasn’t your fault.” Superboy said, gliding quietly above the ground several inches.

“They knew we were coming.” Black Dove spoke softly. “Did you manage to get any conclusive readings on anything, Cyborg?” He turned to look at Victor Stone.

Cyborg, still recovering from the surprise of the experience, rewound some of the data he had collected and reviewed it. It was all intact.

“Yeah, my readings are still there. I’m going to need some time to analyze it though. Repairs are my priority right now.” Cyborg said, rubbing his mechanical arm somewhat absent-mindedly.

Silence hung in the air until Black Dove broke it.

“Alright, team. Let’s proceed with our previous course of action: detain the contraband. Notify the authorities. Question the suspects. Let’s make sure those guards are still here.”

Everyone nodded, back in hero mode. Jon flew up as the rest of the team went back to their duties. As they rounded everything up and began to leave the warehouse, Cyborg was surprised to discover that the sky outside was pitch black. They had certainly not been at this for more than a couple of hours, but it looked as if it could have been near midnight.

Beast Boy received an incoming call from Raven. He went away from the team to explain to her what had happened. All of them, through their various means, could hear his entire conversation, but they chose to not pay attention to it as a matter of respect.

Cyborg looked up at the stars, taking a short reel of them that he would play on a loop in his mind on the way back to the Tower.

They moved back to Cyborg’s cloaked car and began to pile in, Jon smiling at him brightly, wanting to improve the mood. He sat in the back with Beast Boy on the way back, raising the spirits of the other gently. Victor was appreciative of it. He hated seeing Beast Boy down, though he himself was unnerved. No extraterrestrials to his knowledge were supposed to be operating in the area. The Justice League would have to be notified, so he was already emailing a few key members about what the Titans had experienced.

He watched the loop of the stars in a part of his mind, comforted and disquieted by their mystery.


	10. Echoes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this concluding chapter, Jon and Damian reflect on their world travels before encountering Lex Luthor for perhaps the last time. Enjoy~

Though the night outside Wayne Manor was delightful, the bedroom of Damian Wayne was quiet and pristinely protected from any outside intrusions of light. After a long season of adventures, the couple was together enjoying being back in the United States.

They were alone in that room in which their relationship had really started, stroking one another’s skin slowly and tenderly. Damian Wayne was nestled behind the budding Jonathan Kent, his hand buried in Jon’s pubic bush. They were both nude and erect underneath Damian’s silky black sheets.

The summer was still in full swing, but it would end soon. Jon would go back to school, and Damian would go back to China to continue the work that he had partaken in over the summer. He would visit Australia some time in the winter, coming home to see Jon when he could.

While they had been in the honeymoon stage of their relationship, drinking in as much time with each other as they could, they both sensed that some of their passions were settling down, comforted by the extensive repertoire of experiences that they had shared since confessing their love for one another. They had become such a couple that they were really beginning to feel ready to explore their independence within the relationship again.

Laying in bed though, Damian pressing his erection against Jon’s soft butt as he rubbed and caressed his pubic hairs, they felt incredibly close. Damian had read several series about love and relationships over the spring and summer, including the 5 Love Languages by Gary Chapman. He had learned how to touch most of Jon’s buttons, in so many ways.

He ran his hand slowly up the boy’s stomach, trailing tantalizingly over each rib as he reached them, eventually stimulating Jon’s chest and nipples, which he carefully gave attention to. Jon had filled out some over the summer, and his musculature had become more defined, which notably turned Damian on.

“I love it when you touch me like this.” Jon whispered, rubbing his legs and butt against Damian. He reached behind himself to rub Damian’s thick black hair, enveloped in his lover’s exploring hands. His lover planted a kiss on the back of his neck, breathing in his scent.

Their luggage lay in the far corner of the room, still harboring their receipts of travel. A Course In Miracles lay on the table next to the bed.

Damian ran his free hand up Jon’s back before wrapping it around him. He rubbed his chest and shoulder. Jon let him do this for a moment before spinning around in Damian’s arms to get better access to his jaw. They started kissing slowly and softly, not in a hurry like they often had seemed before. They had grown a comfortable trust in one another, so they took their time, pressing their lips against one another’s gently. After many lights and deep pecks, their lips opened enough for their tongues to enmesh. They began to run their tongues along the insides of each other’s mouths, feeling each other’s teeth, inner cheeks, and fleshy tongues. Their saliva mixed in their kissing, warm and clean.

Though they had both been through so much, they still took solace in their embraces. They wrapped their arms around one another, pulling each other closer, groping backs, butts, shoulders, and rubbing their legs against each other.

“I love you so much, Jonathan Kent. These moments that we’ve shared are going to live on in my heart and mind for the rest of my life on this earth. I don’t ever want to stop loving you.” Damian said, breaking their kiss before planting little love bites against Jon’s neck. Jon moaned, wrapping his legs around the older boy, their cocks jutting out from their bodies.

“I’ll do everything that I can to keep you.” Jon spoke, pulling Damian back into a kiss. Damian shivered, pressing his erection against Superboy’s plump rump. “You mean so much to me, Dami. I’m so grateful for what we’ve shared so far. You’re amazing.”

As they seduced one another, rubbing and touching, Damian rolled Jon onto his back, reaching down to stroke his lover’s beautiful cock. They kept up a steady stream of complimenting each other. Damian loved that part of their courtship. Jon was so good at saying tantalizing sweet things, elaborating his affection much more efficiently than the older boy. Damian had needed to study his own psychology to more accurately relate his affections to Jon. He ran his fingers through the boy’s luxurious hair, caressing his ear.

He started kissing down Superboy’s neck, sucking gently on his collarbone and chest.

Black Dove slid seamlessly down to Jon’s leaking cock, trailing a lick against his head while pushing his own lower half upwards on the bed, giving the younger man access to his genitals. Jon, without hesitations, began swirling his tongue on Damian’s head, planting kisses up and down its length before sucking the whole thing back into his throat. Damian moaned, compelled to do the same with Jonathan’s sweet member. He was always so impressed at how easily the young Kent managed to deepthroat him. It was maybe not the most surprising thing though. They both loved sucking each other off.

Jon humped into Damian’s skull, forcing his full length back into his throat, feeling him moan around his length. Damian leaked pre into Jon’s mouth and throat, which Jon swallowed down graciously, slurping and slithering his tongue all over his engorged member. Jon knew that Damian really liked when he was just the slightest bit more aggressive than he would be if left to his own characteristic preferences, so he humped his rod back into Damian’s throat again, enveloped in the sensation of Damian’s soft, warm lips tugging back his foreskin.

Their pubes picked up tiny flecks of saliva as they tongue-bathed each other’s erections, eliciting cute sounds and shivering moans from each other. They shifted position from on their sides to Jon being on top of Damian. He used the leverage over his partner to start working his tongue around Black Dove’s hole, making him quake and pant Jon’s name in those precious few moments when he wasn’t gulping down his dick. Damian had his legs raised, delighted to give his boyfriend easier access to his most tender area.

Jon rimmed his lover for some time before taking his erection back in his mouth, pushing two fingers into his lover. As he worked them in and out of Damian, he gently pumped his cock in and out of his throat, feeling Black Dove swirling his tongue over his head and over the underside of his dick.

When neither of them wanted to belabor the moment any longer, Jon turned around, pausing to let Damian kiss and suck on his balls before positioning himself over his partner. The look on Damian’s face of open pleading and appreciation made Jon’s heart melt. It also made his dick throb. The older boy reached out and stroked Jon’s leaking cock, making sure to pull his foreskin over his head and then back off again.

“I can’t stand it, beautiful. Fuck me. Please. I want you inside of me.” Damian cooed, rubbing Jon’s strong shoulder with his free hand. Jon stooped low for a kiss, happily obliging the request. He planted his head against Damian’s slick hole, licking his hand to spread saliva all over his member. The squishing, slick sound made Damian mimic Jon by holding his bottom lip in his teeth, smiling.

Damian looked so innocent and in love in that moment. The sight brought Superboy joy. He pushed his cock inside of his partner, who tilted his head back to moan in satisfaction as he was filled. Their bodies were so familiar to one another, but that only heightened the pleasure that they took in getting each other off.

Jon lowered himself, licking up Damian’s neck, pecking it with kisses, then biting and sucking on it. Damian wrapped his legs around Jon’s neck, tightening his hole around Jon, letting him know that he was adjusted to his lover. Jon leaked precum inside of him, beginning to gyrate his hips backwards and forwards softly, burying his length in and out of Black Dove.

Jon hilted himself up to the pubes, feeling his balls gently smack Damian. He pulled nearly out and pushed in again to his pubic hairs, making them both moan. He kept this rhythm up, his powerful abdomen muscles lending themselves to usefulness in plowing the older boy, whose own cock began to bead with precum. Jon licked his palm again, spreading saliva on it before wrapping it around the other’s member.

He swirled his fingers around his lover’s member, pumping his fist, tightening and slackening his grip, varying his motions as he continued to hump the darker boy, leaking precum inside of him.

Damian began to get close, so he pulled Jon out of himself, sensually rolling onto his stomach, lifting his butt in the air for Jon to resume plowing into him, which he did with stable gusto, pumping his erection into Damian with joy and ease. He planted little kisses against Damian’s neck and ears, taking a moment to wrap his arms around him and to lick inside of his ear, which made Damian shiver against him. He pressed his tongue into his ear and created a slight suction with it, making his lover blush and praise him for his awesomeness.

They continued their sex in that regard, speaking sweet things to one another, caught up in admiration and appreciation, their heads spinning with the scents of their love making, their bodies hot and flush. Sweat began to wet the sheets, heat building in the room.

They edged each other for some time, giggling and egging each other on to cum, neither of them wanting to pop first. After a time, Damian stopped Jon yet again and had him hold him up against the walls, his legs up over Jon’s shoulders. The room filled with the smacking sound of their sex, Jon’s balls slapping against his lover again and again, their lips and tongues tangled in their making out.

Finally, they let each other orgasm, neither of them wanting to hold back any longer. Damian’s toes curled, as did Jon’s even though he was standing. The older boy had his fingers twisted in Jon’s hair, Jon digging his own fingers into Damian’s ass as they both pumped out streams of hot seed, Damian all over them both, Jon inside of Damian.

They kept kissing for a time. When they broke their embrace, they both took turns licking cum off of each other. They eventually turned on some down tempo tunes like Beach House and Current Joys, dancing nude together for a little while before settling down, both of their faces bright and shining. Their laughter was melodic to them both.

They both knew from experience that change was inevitable. Challenges would arise in their relationship, just as they arose in everything, but they vowed to meet those challenges together. Boldly.

They made love again, as was their custom, Damian topping Jon this time.

They drifted off to sleep in one another’s arms, reflecting and dreaming about the lives that they’d lived over the past months, full of hope and one another’s cum.

~~~~~~~

Jon had spent some time after their encounter in the warehouse in an ecology & science summer camp. He loved his time with Damian, but he found that he felt a sense of duty to his peers to interact with them. Some heroes seemed disconnected from the general public, and the young Kent sensed that this was not the way to help them. He also sincerely did not want to underestimate anyone based on their age, or mistreat or devalue them because of anything similar. So he’d signed up for the experience with his parents’ approval.

The camp had been beautiful, complete with sparkling lake and lush vegetation. What struck Jon the most though had been how much he had apparently grown internally over the last year. He was surprised by his peers’ lack of social orientation. While Jon had been feeling more and more that his body was just a tool, a device that he was intimately loving of, with which he explored his reality and carried out his duties to protect and honor the safety and development of all life, he found that many of his peers seemed sort of identified with their bodies. They were mostly living out sense experiences, some of them having a very underdeveloped sense of morality and being.

Many of the young people around him were going through puberty, and they seemed to have confused, often mixed feelings about that process. He had done his best to give kind or insightful words to whom he could when he could. Jonathan Kent knew how intimate and important sexuality and religion were to people, and he knew firsthand how much guidance a person could use during puberty.

He had overheard several of his peers, both male and female, having homosexual experiences while at the camp during his meditative stretches. Since the boys and girls were kept separate, he supposed that this was only natural. He knew that some of the campers really longed after heterosexual experiences, and he found that a select few of them dared to venture to fulfill those at the camp. He couldn’t honestly imagine himself being romantically involved with anyone other than Damian Wayne.

Studying the nature of a thing that some called ‘egregore,’ he had decided to let his knowledge of these encounters fill himself and penetrate others’ understanding. He filled himself with Eastern knowledge and let himself radiate what he could, not forcing it, but not holding it back either. People seemed responsive to this and seemed to be even more relaxed around him than they had been in his earlier youth, so he was appreciative of his lack of condemnation towards any of them. Sexual exploration was natural, afterall, and it was better not to fixate on it too intensely.

Egregore seemed to be the group mind of a collection of beings. It was the combined intentionalities of whatever organisms inhabited an area. He had done what he could over such a short period to cultivate a sense of purpose in the group, and he had found that the more he had done so, the sharper their intuition had become.

Towards the end of his stay there, one of the campers, a young boy of about twelve, had approached Jon alone around sunset. The young boy, missing a tooth, had sidled up to Jon and presented very clearly that he had a bit of a friend crush on him. Jon did not think that it was sexual, but there was certainly an attraction there, as there sometimes was with his peers.

After some talking, the boy got quiet, getting closer to the young Kent. “Hey, Jon. You’re dating a boy, aren’t you?” the fellow had asked. Jon had not talked about Damian, but of course, his lover was always close to his mind and heart. He answered the boy truthfully.

Still apparently not entirely satiated, the boy grabbed Jon’s arm and twirled around it before hugging it close. He looked up at the older boy with a look of mystery.

“And you guys are superheroes, aren’t you?” the boy asked. Teddy, the boy in front of him, seemed to have a strong intuition. Jon had observed him several times over the course of their stay together noticing things or guessing things about people without any spoken indications or context. He just seemed to know.

Personally, Superboy was quite keen to nurture that trait. He had found that while flying super humans in capes were a socially accepted phenomenon, many adults still remained skeptical about psychic and intuitive abilities, often unconsciously denying them around their children, thus stunting the growth of their children’s own abilities. Many adults actively feared extra-sensory prowess, condemning it in themselves or in the greater community at large.

He supposed that a part of this was a hold over bit of Egregore from the puritanical days of conquest, misinformation, superstition, and barbarism that lingered on in their species from times long past.

He tussled Teddy’s hair and smiled. “You know, Teddy, we’re all superheroes in our own way. We all belong to each other, and we have to do what we can to love and protect each other.” Jon smiled, radiating the warm, open, steely strength that he had learned to possess from his father. There passed a moment of understanding between them in which they both knew that they were safe with each other, and they both understood just what the other had meant.

“Even if we’re both boys?” Teddy had asked. 

“Yep. Even if we’re both boys. But it would be the same if one of us was a girl, or if we both were girls, or if we didn’t identify with a particular gender.” Jon smiled gently down at the black-haired boy. His hair seemed a little more blue than Damian’s rich black hair did, he observed. The boy’s eyes were a bright honey color. They made Jon smile. He could see the bright cognition behind those eyes.

“Hmmmm. Welllll, okay, SuperJon. But I’m glad we’re both boys.” Teddy smiled, letting go of Jon’s arms to go get in line for dinner with his other friends. He waved back at Jon as he departed. He was such a precocious boy. Jon wondered how clairvoyant he would become. He hoped that the trait was nurtured by those around him.

Jon beamed back at the boy, clearly knowing that the boy had really meant that he felt safe around Superboy, that he accepted his identity (along with its secrets), and that he appreciated Jon’s honesty. Teddy, for his part, knew that Jon wanted to maintain an internal perspective of equanimity that valued all life. He didn’t want to elevate his status above any living thing, and Teddy, along with a lot of the other campers and counselors, were seriously impressed by his desire to do so.

~~~~~

Damian had been learning that he was going to have to utilize many of his talents and resources if he was going to help his species to avoid doing tremendous harm to itself. He found that advocating for social justice, for education, for rehabilitation, and for universal rights for all species was really going to be what compelled the most social growth. 

True, he had been working with Kara and other heroes to further his goals, but he found that he could accomplish a lot on his own just as Damian Wayne, son of the wealthy and prestigious Bruce Wayne.

He spent time that summer in China, forging diplomatic efforts and studying abroad. He did his best to learn all that he could while instituting a local branch of his rehabilitation program. The United States was not terribly aware of the conditions outside of its borders, but he was, and he wanted to help.

He met with influential people in the country and advocated for renewable energy sources, secretly pumping money and resources into the many campaigns trying to free Tibet from China's political occupation. He walked a tight line while he was there. Jonathon Kent was an incredibly welcome sight to him when they reunited at last. Damian had brought his lover some fine oriental gifts, including a silk robe, silk undergarments, several books, and a novelty t-shirt to spoil him and to show that he'd been thinking about him.

The sex between them was always great, but they loved the intimacy and support that came from their relationship even more. Their love-making was just a small part of their expressions of love for one another, and gift giving was just another small part. What they shared ran deep and true, and there were many ways for them to nurture their mutual love for one another.

A large portion of their summer after that had been shared between Jon and Damian. They had, in fact, spent part of the summer helping two local teen heroes in India, infiltrating a cult that had gained some following and influence, the cult leaders promising riches and glory to those that would (literally) buy into their vision. Cults like that (profit-driven things sometimes headed up by a super villain), seemed to be common occurrences both historically and in contemporary times. In this case, the leadership's purposes were greedy and nefarious.

It was a shame that so many human beings actively sought to use religion, science, politics, money, psychology, and any other thing to further their own selfish agendas, often at the expense of those around them, but Jon and Damian knew from experience that any gifts or abilities could be used for good as well as for evil. It wasn’t that any of these things were intrinsically bad in and of themselves, it was just that certain groups and individuals made choices to use those things to hurt others. The pair was a great example of what people could do with their gifts to help their fellow earthlings if they felt so motivated to do so.

Still, it was such a shame that people could take anything so beautiful and pervert it to their own ends, so the super sons had needed to interfere. With concerted efforts, they had been able to eventually expose the cult leader for who he had been, and his revealed treachery caused a collapse of his following, though some very misguided souls remained loyal to him.

It had been such a welcome interaction for the heroes from different parts of the world to work together to bring about the collapse of something so dangerous. They spent a week there being shown around by the two crime fighters after their mission had ended. That left just enough time for Damian and Jon to travel a bit more before heading back home.

~~~~~

Their first vacation destination had been Rome. The city had been undergoing a lot of community revitalization projects, fueled by the passion of the climate protests that had gone on earlier in the Spring and Summer of that year. The two noted many bird species, obviously invigorated by the planting of so many new trees. Some areas that had been open to the public were now off-limits sanctuaries, so they knew that that was certainly helping local bird populations to recover.

The couple spend their time in Rome visiting hot tourist destinations, enjoying romantic candle-lit evenings together, and generally getting lost in the rich culture of the city.

From there, they had flown to Nicaragua to spend some time together soaking up sun on various beaches. They loved flaunting their forms in front of one another, openly appreciating the body of the other rather than hiding their affections as they had been earlier in their lives. They both reflected on their mutual attraction.

They spent a brief stay in Ireland, exploring foggy moors and hiking rolling green hills. They met many interesting and friendly trees on their travels there.

While all of their vacationing had been fun, and while they had encountered opportunities to aid local heroes on their travels, they both sensed and discussed that the world was a different place now. It was clear to them how different the world had been previously throughout history, and now they were quite aware that it was not even the place that they grew up in. It was becoming something different, and they needed to do what they could to propagate the fair growth of the earth community as these new and exciting changes continued to occur.

They noticed how some people worldwide struggled with the changes, and how this seemed to happen in every generation of their species. They observed how still some others seemed to leap ahead of the changes and to embrace the new as a part of their collective destiny. The latter group excited them both the most.

~~~~~

Lulled by their love making earlier, the two rested on peacefully. That is, until a voice tugged at Jon’s heartstrings. He stirred slowly, but then popped his eyes opened as he realized what was happening. He raised his head from Damian’s chest, peacefully alert. He had been expecting something like this to happen for some time, but the actions playing out were unexpected.

Damian, vigilant as ever, was also awake now, sensing the bit of tension in Jon’s person. He reached a hand up and lovingly stroked Jon’s jaw.

“What is it, babe?” he whispered in the darkness that obscured neither of their vision.

“It’s Lex. He’s almost here. He’s coming to Wayne Manor to die.” Jon replied.

In their earlier days of crime fighting together, this statement alone would have been enough to send the two rocketing out of the bedroom, racing to get their costumes on in the process. They would have alerted the whole household to the oncoming attack. In short, in their own seasoned way, they would have panicked. But now, while they did hop up out of bed and quickly throw on pajamas, they both knew rightly that there was no need for disguises. The three of them knew what was going on. There was no need for dramatics and hiding.

Damian knew that Lex Luthor had been quite sick, and that his situation had been declining for some time. Jon, taking the initiative, filled Damian in on the recent updates while they were getting dressed. They hugged tightly, bracing themselves for the emotional onslaught that was about to occur. Before they parted, they kissed each other on the lips.

“Go, sweetie. I’ll meet you at the door.” Damian said quietly, confidently. They could hear rain playing on the roof somewhere stories up above them. Jon took no further delay, flying over to dark curtains. He pulled them apart, letting the moonlight slant into the room. He paused in front of the window before releasing himself into the night.

Damian, with all the skills of who he was, knew that his father would be at the door before him if he didn’t move quickly. He made for the first floor like a ninja. Just as he descended to the final staircase, he saw the older Wayne making his way to the batcave, clearly gearing up mentally for aggression.

“Father.” Damian called across the grand entrance. Bruce Wayne whirled on the spot, obviously happy to see Damian, but not at all happy by what he must have already knew.

“Damian. There’s someone at the front gate. They almost evaded my security measures.” He said coyly, not quite making a statement, but not quite posing a question either.

“I know.” Damian said, stepping down the stairs calmly in his pajamas. His father was watching him, clearly trying to decide if he should be angry and how angry he should become. Bruce understood that his son had gone through a lot of changes recently, but it was not in his nature to trust easily. He was suspicious of this intrusions, and naturally, he felt protective of his estate and those within it.

A dim light fell from a single chandeleur above, the others darkened at this time of night.

The younger Wayne, deciding that the direct approach was the only one worth taking, spoke as he descended.

“It’s Lex Luthor. He’s dying. Jon has been communicating with him psychically, and he’s about to arrive at our front door with something important to say. Jon has just went out to fetch him.”

The intensity of the hall changed with icy suddenness. In a moment, all was taught with tension and unspoken intention. Neither of them moved.

“What??” The sheer disappointment and mistrust in his father’s voice stung Damian’s heart, but he had not been unprepared for this. He remained unmoving, the older Wayne’s energies spiraling out into the space, quickly becoming retracted and angry. Even Damian could see how badly the older male wanted to chastise him. He could see the bitterness and betrayal playing across his features, so hard to detect. His eyes were narrowed, examining his son. But they lightened ever so.

Damian said a quiet prayer to God, doing his best to open his heart and understanding to his father and any beings present. Bruce was well aware that Black Dove’s recent efforts had been quite successful. He was also well aware that the rehabilitation program that his son had been an orchestral part of starting had been doing wonders for the communities in which they operated. Even some villains in China had supposedly changed their ways under his son’s and others’ guidance.

As ever, he was cautious and skeptical. Change did not come easy for most.

At last, Batman spoke.

“Damian, what’s going on??” The control in his voice never ceased to impress the younger Wayne. He could tell that the older Wayne wanted to shout, but that he somehow knew that the temperate volume of his voice was much more demanding and much more menacing. They searched each other’s eyes, the tension palpable.

Damian, hearing footsteps coming up the front stairs in the rain, hesitated for a long moment, not trusting that things were not about to blow up around him. He quietly turned and resolutely descended the last few steps onto the landing, turning to make his way to the front door, opening it just as Jon and Lex Luthor appeared on the other side, drenched in rain. Lightning struck just at that moment in the distance. The rain poured on.

Lex Luthor, a grim shadow of his former self, was being kept held up by Superboy, whose own pajamas had been soaked clean through. Nobody moved for a moment. Nobody spoke. Jon, clearly hearing otherwise, wondered if anyone in the room was even breathing. Lex was looking at Damian, his eyesight diminished by the disease ravaging his body. Damian was looking at Jon. Bruce was looking at Damian. Jon looked from Damian to his father, sopping wet from the rain. He’d gathered from his brief flight that it must have been sometime past two in the morning.

Did the Wayne’s ever sleep, he thought to himself dimly, focusing on his breathing and the breathing of the man draped on his shoulders, which was raspy, coming in small waves. The journey there had shaken the man.

Jon, if he had been someone else, would have gotten impatient, but he knew better. This moment needed to stretch on for just a little while longer. More lightning struck in the distance.

“Might I suggest, Master Bruce, that we not allow any more of the heat to escape into the night? The bills for such a thing can be quite high, you know.”

Every head in the room turned to the aging butler, Alfred, whose grace and composure were never short of remarkable. He had arrived like a shadow on the scene and had chosen just that moment to speak, seeing the two dripping figures framed by moonlight standing in the doorway.

Damian took this as his cue, stepping forward to help Jon and Luthor into Wayne Manor. Jon didn’t really need the help physically, but he appreciated the quiet touch of his partner helping them both through the door.

Luthor began coughing at that moment. It was a deep, dreadful sound, filling the entrance hall with clambor and the certainty of coming death. When his coughing fit subsided, he wheezed, not appearing altogether conscious.

Batman broke the hypnotic spell.

“Alfred,” he said, turning his head to face the man, “Could you get a warm robe for our guest? And maybe some towels to clean up all of this water?”

“I shall at once, sir.” came the reply. Bruce turned his head to a corner near the ceiling.

“Nightwing,” he said, “Could you go prep the batcave for life support?”

In the light of another flash of lightning in the distance, they could all see the dark figure of the slender man unfolding from the corner and then descending to the floor with the ease of panther, or of a large spider.

“Bruce, are you sure you want to do this? I saw them approaching, so I came up. Can we trust what’s going on?” he spoke gruffly, skeptical to the nth degree. They could all tell that he was genuinely asking a question though. He would respect the will of his mentor.

Jon closed the door to stop the rain from pelting the glazed wood under their feet, seeming to form an answer to this question that was all his own.

Bruce nodded, not speaking. Nightwing made his way silently out of the room, Alfred returning then with a warm white robe for the emaciated Lex Luthor, who began coughing sickeningly in Damian’s arms. Jon quickly offered his support.

“Breathe, Mister Luthor. Breathe.” He gently rubbed the man’s back, knowing full well that this man would have, in previous times, gladly killed his father, him, and his mother, all to exact some form of revenge on them and to extend his control to the inhabitants of the earth.

With Alfred’s help, they were able to get the robe onto the dying man just as he began to have a sort of seizure, thrashing around in their arms, his neck muscles bulging. A pitiful sort of strangled scream escaped his lips. Jon did his best to comfort the man verbally while Damian touched various pressure-points, Alfred helping to keep the man from twisting himself into his last moments. Lex seemed to lose consciousness then, so Jon lifted him up and flew in the direction of the Batcave.

Alfred rested his hand on Damian’s shoulder as they watched him go. Bruce had disappeared ahead of them, storm clouds of disturbed unease drifting around him mentally.

“I trust you know what you are doing, young Master Wayne.” he said, looking grimly down at the young man. Damian rested his hand on Alfred’s, looking up at him.

“I certainly hope so, Pennyworth. I truly hope so.”

They made their way to their destiny.

~~~~~

Lex Luthor woke up upon entering the Batcave.

“Set me down, Kent. Set me down.” he panted, seeming to have regained some of his vigour. Now that he was out of the rain, it was clear that a heavy odor was hanging about him, now filling the space with an aroma of rotting flesh.

Nightwing and Bruce Wayne watched on in cool detachment, not twitching a muscle to help Jon or Luthor. Jon did not blame them. He focused on his breathing, coaxing Lex to calm down.

A racking cough breached Luthor’s lungs again as he struggled to look around. His eyes lighted on the door that they had come through.

“He is not leaving this room, Superboy. Don’t even think about it.” Nightwing said, his arms crossed over his chest, scalpel in hand. He could have looked menacing to the average person. Jon, however, was full of remorse and compassion, wanting to help Luthor fulfill his dying wish.

“Wayne,” Luthor gasped, looking over at Bruce with the dignity that he could muster. His grip on Jon slackened, and he stood to his fullest composure. Jon knew that he had landed inside of the perimeter of Wayne Manor, his heavy jetpack adorning his frail and fragile back. His cheeks were sallow. His eyes were sunken in just a bit. He appeared to also have a fever.

“Batman, you have to understand why I came here to die.” Luthor breathed out, focusing on Bruce Wayne’s cold, calculated gaze.

“You are not dying on my property, Luthor. I would never be able to explain what you were doing here. In fact, I can’t explain it now.” he retorted. Nightwing seemed more hostile to the intrusion of the Super Villain into their inner sanctum. Bruce seemed calculating and as objective as he could be.

“I understand your animosity, Batman. But I have to disagree with you. I am dying here tonight. Soon.” he gasped for breath, letting loose a rattling cough after doing so. Jon stooped to help him regain his standing height.

“I came here tonight because I have information about a threat to our entire planet, and I have to give it to you.” He reached into his inner pocket, pulling out a rather innocuous-looking usb flash drive. Jon could sense that it was dense with information. He did not detect any kryptonite in it, though, which was a reassuring sign to him.

“I would not let you get that near any of my computers any more than I’m going to let you die here tonight, Luthor. Nightwing and I are going to get you into a stable condition, and you’re going back to whatever cesspool you came here from. Is that clear?” Batman said, every bit of his menace and composure present even without his cape and cowl.

“Your stubborn attitude is permissible, Batman. But I assure you that you are going to take this information just as easily as I assure you that I am going to die here in your Batcave tonight.” A bit of the will-power that Luthor had displayed during all of his adult life as a super villain shone through in that moment. He was talking to Batman though, who had a will to rival that of the Green Lantern’s. Still, there was absolute truth in Lex Luthor’s words, hard as they were to believe.

“He’s been working with those aliens that ‘robbed’ his complex last year.” Jon said. Though no normal visual signs indicated such, he could tell that he had stoked Nightwing’s interest.

“Superboy, you can’t trust this man. He’s a menace if I’ve ever met one.” Dick said. Jon thought he could detect a falter in his conviction. Lex Luthor laughed dryly, the sound barely audible.

“Mister Luthor and I have been communicating for a while now. I found him in a meditation. Something’s different, guys. He’s afraid and trying to do the right thing. He’s shown me that those same aliens were the ones responsible for the warehouse incident that we encountered with the Titans. They were in the Amazon. They’ve been all over the world. He’s just trying to stop whatever it is that they’re doing.” He said, keeping warm and open. “I trust him.” Jon said, standing at his full height, back straight, chest out. Dick thought that he could have looked like a posterboard Superman if he had his cape on.

“Why were you working with them, Luthor?” Bruce asked, his voice even and smooth. Jon admired his level-headedness, even in a situation such as this.

“I was… helping them to gain intel on you and your cohorts. I was… hoping that they would rid this planet of you. But… I didn’t realize… the extent of their ambitions for this world.” Luthor wheezed, still attempting to command presence. “They were gaining intel on my staff. On my projects. They double-crossed me.” His eyes burned with intensity. Jon could hear his heart going into arrest. Luthor clutched his chest.

“Nightwing, he’s having a heart attack, help me with him.” Jon called, reaching forward to support the collapsing figure. Splotches of black and burgundy covered Lex Luthor’s body. His skin clung to his jangling bones. He must have had a lot of tenacity to fly here in the rain like that. He must have had a lot of tenacity to simply be walking.

The villain puked up blood then, bearing up his guts to their world, shaking and shivering.

Nightwing came forward reluctantly but dutifully, assisting Superboy with him. They moved him to an operating table that Jon had seen many heroes lay on. Bruce and Dick went to work quickly, inserting IV drips and opening the front of the man’s jumpsuit. His ribs stuck out like foreboding warnings of his coming death.

They used several devices to perform scans on him. They gave him three shots of different sorts, inserting them into different parts of his person.

Dick whispered to Bruce that there was no way that they could save this guy. He was doomed. Dick was amazed that he had even been able to speak.

Damian appeared at Superboy’s side, wrapping his arm around the boy as they watched the two men work. There was not much that they could do, but they got enough equipment attached to him to monitor his situation. It did not look good.

A hushed conversation ensued in which the Batfamily discussed their options. The conclusion was reached, mostly at Jon’s persistence, that they would have to submit to Luthor’s demands. They would allow him access to one of their isolated systems.

He regained coherence with startling speed, his eyes popping violently open.

“I’m not doing this for you, Batman.” He clutched at Dick’s costume front, pulling him close, apparently oblivious to the character that he was holding. “The whole world could be at stake. How often have you seen me shaken about anything? I’ve spent my life trying to kill Superman. These aliens are a grave threat to our people. To everything.

“I don’t have time to explain, you fools! You--” he coughed deeply, “You have to stop them. Get me to your computer. I’ll enter the access codes on this device. Let this be the end of my legacy.”

They all hesitated, but they caved when Luthor explained that only he could unlock the device.

“How fitting for an ego-maniac like myself, right? Fitting even in the end. Oh how I would have loved to find this place sooner. To destroy all of you.” Luthor wheezed, being led to a computer by Jon. Damian and the rest of the Batfamily were retaining their distance from the dying man, not out of fear of contracting the horrible disease that was ravaging him so fully, but out of distrust.

“I’ve done all of this out in the open. If you want to deceive the masses, parade your schemes out in the open.” He smiled crookedly, looking oddly remorseful. “You know, maybe I admired you lot. I had convinced myself that I pitied you, but perhaps I needed you. You were how I justified my actions to myself. I feel such spite for you even now, but here I am begging for your help like a leper. What a lunatic I am, gibbering away like some paltry King Lear.” He coughed again, being directed to a seat and a keyboard.

Luthor, once at the computer, inserted the flash drive, beginning to rapidly type away, muttering phrases in Latin that sounded like incantations. They all knew at once that the USB device was coded with an audio-visual recognition device.

Luthor started to ooze blood from the corners of his mouth, coughing into the robe that was rapidly becoming stained red and yellow from his bile. He continued to type in passwords and patterns, pulling up schematics. Computer screens around the lab started to come to life, full of comprehensive data on alien machines and intentions. Mathematics codes started to fill displays.

As Luthor’s coughing got worse, he started to wheeze more and more shallowly. Nobody approached him. Not even Jon. The man looked determined to unlock every piece of information on his device. He was typing away like mad, clearly dying. Jon could feel his erratic heartbeat giving out. He was most likely in the throes of having a stroke, determined to the end.

As his typing became slower and slower, the group thought that they were approaching the end of his releasing his data to them, and they were right. When the last bit of intel had been decrypted, Luthor feebly hit the last key, signifying to them all that he had performed his duty. He breathed out his last, rattling breath and fell back in the seat, his neck falling back, his eyes rolling back into his head. Jon and Damian felt his spirit leave him. Lex Luthor was dead.

Batman was busy looking up at the data, scanning it for the sake of his comprehension, visually agitated at the risk they had taken by allowing Luthor access like that. Damian had moved forward, closing Luthor’s eyes. Jon helped him to set him forward. With Nightwing’s help, they were able to move him back into the operating room. They laid him gently on the table, maintaining no delusions about reviving him.

Dick grabbed a mop, moving to clean up the blood and vomit that Luthor had imparted to them as a last gift. Alfred had appeared with hot tea for the lot of them, grimacing at the sight of Luthor’s deflated, empty body. The smell was quite putrid.

As Batman moved in to start examining the data more closely, an odd stillness fell over the Batcave. It was almost lyrical. A small glow started to emanate from seemingly nowhere.

They all turned to see a man standing near the edge of a cliff within the cave. There was no visible sign as to how this figure had appeared. They all perceived, however, that this man was ancient, even though he appeared no older than forty physically. His robes were a pristine tan. They hung loosely from his powerful frame. His hair was matted almost like dreadlocks. Jon thought for a moment that the light that they were seeing had come from a Boom Tube, but it seemed to be radiating from the man himself.

He approached the corpse of Lex Luthor. Jonathan thought that he could feel shifting shadows and energies twisting around his corpse, not in sight of the physical world, but present all the same.

The man stopped short of Lex and spoke. Though his tongue was ancient and complex, they all found that they comprehended everything that he was saying quite clearly. Damian felt his father wanting to be annoyed, but they were all in awe of this man. Something about him seemed familiar and yet quite foreign.

“(My name on this world is Jibaba. You are wondering where I am from, but I am your kin, of this world since before the Common Era.)” He moved closer to the corpse of Lex Luthor. “(I have been here for millenia, watching man make so many blunders. The greed of priests and the secrecy of men has ravaged this world. I asked this one to come here, though he did not realize it.)”

Though he spoke deeply, he was smiling ever so faintly. A peace seemed to emanate from his person.

“What about the aliens that Mister Luthor was warning us about?” Jon spoke, still held by the protective Damian. Jibaba smiled.

“(They are indeed foreign to this world. This man is mistaken, though, in their intentions. They have let him believe whatever he wanted, chasing his foolish ambitions and projecting them as he pleased. As he said, ‘If you want to hide, hide out in the open.’ They, however, have come here at the request of the few beings like myself on this planet. They are here to help the evolution of the planet earth.)” 

He moved forward towards the corpse of Lex Luthor, stepping up next to his body. Nobody moved to stop him.

Jibaba stretched out his hand and muttered something that they did not comprehend. The focus in the Batcave shifted, and entities stirred. Within moments, Luthor had taken a deep, rattling breath. He slowly sat up, removing the cloth that they had laid on him. Though his teeth were still stained with blood and bile, he looked healthier than he had when he arrived. Some of the weight was back on his bones.

When he had fully sat up, he moved his feet over the edge of the bed and sat with his head in his hands. The tension in his muscles was completely different. His skin looked repositioned. His mind seemed to have altered. Jon and Nightwing were wondering what he had seen on the other side of death. Damian was wondering what his father was thinking. Bruce Wayne was wondering when this new contender was going to leave. He wanted to know what the catch was.

“(There is no ‘catch’ for you, Bruce Wayne. But there is one for this man.)” Jibaba gestured at the resurrected form of Lex Luthor. “(This man has much to repent of. What he desired in this life, he will accomplish now with me: he will be important. But only after he has endured intense suffering because of his past deeds. He wills this for himself. We cannot alter this for him.)”

Lex Luthor stood up and looked around at all of them, his eyes so full of regret and compassion that even Bruce Wayne felt a stirring of discomfort.

Luthor, after looking for a long time at Jibaba, walked over to Jonathan Kent, resting his hand on his shoulder. 

“I owe you this gift, Superboy.” His voice, though hoarse, was clear and quite pleasant. The old arrogance and edge to it was no longer present. It felt hollow, but alive with realization. No odor clung to his person. “Please express to your dear father how sorry I am.” He paused. “Perhaps I can make things up to him some day.”

Jon nodded, looking at the man deeply in his eyes, examining what he found there.

“(Come, Lex Luthor. The time of your repentance begins now. We have much to do, and you have much to learn.)” Jibaba spoke, extending his hand to the man. Jon kept expecting the man to be holding a staff. He suspected that he may have been, or that he usually would.

“Batman. I’m sorry.” Luthor said, turning fully to him. He turned to look into the distance and was then led away by the mysterious figure that had appeared in the cave.

“(I did not have to ‘get into’ this cave, Bruce Wayne. I have been on this planet for a very long time by your standards. I have my own way around.)” Jibaba said, watching them all quaintly. They all felt as though he were looking into the contents of their souls, weighing what he found there, offering non-verbal suggestions as to how they could become more enlightened. It was their personal responsibility to take his advice or to refrain from it. They all had their own private interactions with him as their eyes met. Though the moments were sparingly brief, the interactions were deep and lasting.

Any typical bystanders would have been absolutely shaken by the experience. To the super heroes, it was an atypical day in a long string of extraordinary days. They watched the pair turn and dissolve into darkness, appearing to walk behind a curtain much as Jon had in the warehouse some months earlier.

After the two had departed, they all realized that Jason was standing at the foot of the stairs of the Bat cave. They had mistaken Lex Luthor’s gaze to be at something off in the distance. It had been, however, upon his peer. Red Hood had also been dead before.

Like many things in life, this all happened very quickly. They all knew that it would take them some time to process everything that had happened.

While they all took solace in the privacy of their thoughts, Damian looked out into the darkness into which the two men had disappeared. Jon listened to the echoes of the bats resonating from deep within the cave. Though unseen, their echoes reminded them of their presence.

It reminded Jon of the purpose of their lives, and of their various callings.

He listened for a long time to those echoes, even after the Bat family had begun going about deciphering the information that they had been gifted by the dying Lex Luthor.

Echoes pouring forth from darkness. Sounds distorted from their true source, but reminding them all of life all the same. So much of the human experience as they knew it was so similar.


End file.
